


I Am No Angel

by miss_meh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Beauty and the Beast fusion, F/M, M/M, Multi, Zachariah is a featherduster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:10:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 68,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_meh/pseuds/miss_meh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His wings always seemed to be the problem, Castiel figured. But when he and his family move to Sioux Falls and he meets a Beast locked away in a castle, could his wings be the solution?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is my first fanfic so go easy on me. It was written over a year ago. The first chapter or two are a bit rough, but once I hit my stride, it got a lot better, so please bear with me. XD I hope you all enjoy it.
> 
> Much thanks to my brilliant beta Delu. Couldn't have done it without you.

Many years ago in the middle of a vast countryside, there lived a rich nobleman and his two sons. After the death of his beloved wife at the hands of a demon, the man took up his sword and waged a personal war against the plague of evil that haunted mankind. As his sons grew older, he attempted to teach them the way of the Hunter. The elder of his sons possessed an amazing aptitude for hunting, a natural instinct that served to get him out of whatever dangerous situations he had managed to get himself into. The younger son, while possessing similar instincts, was more inclined to the pursuit of knowledge as opposed to that of vengeance. He would stay behind and research in their vast library while his father and brother hunted all manner of evil creatures.

Four years after the death of his wife, the nobleman's mistress died after giving birth to a son. In spite of his quest for vengeance, the Hunter was a good man. He took the boy into his home and declared him both a brother to his boys as well as an heir to his estate. Both the father and his sons sheltered the new addition to the family as much as possible from the reality of the Hunters' world, but it couldn't last forever.

After fifteen years of tracking the son of a bitch demon that had killed his wife, the Hunter's story ended when he took a blow that was meant for his eldest. Enraged by the death of his father, the Hunter's son managed to throw a special demon-killing dagger, forged by the legendary Samuel Colt. The dagger pierced the demon between the eyes, killing him instantly. Grief-stricken, the son brought his father's body back to the manor to be salted and burned, as was traditional in the Hunter's world, and then all three brothers settled into their particular brands of mourning.

Unbeknownst to them, the demon (whose true name was Azazel, but that is neither here nor there) had a daughter named Meg. She took offense to the death of her father and decided to exact revenge upon the house of the fallen Hunter, his eldest son in particular. Knowing that he had a penchant for drunken one-night stands, Meg seduced him and plied him with alcohol before convincing him to take her back to his manor. The minute he allowed her past the anti-demon warding at the front gate, Meg immediately knocked the unsuspecting Hunter unconscious and began to recite her curse.

By the time he regained consciousness and had awareness enough to do anything about his situation, it was too late. The girl he had returned with the previous night stood over him, one foot planted on his chest, her eyes as black as the pit she had dragged herself out of. A thrill of fear traced itself through the Hunter's frozen form as she spoke the final words of her curse.

"And so you shall be a Beast, hideous to all who behold you, until the day comes when an Angel raises you from this Hell by agreeing to be bound to you in love and not by force. Until that day, the House of Winchester shall be held in time by this curse." With a cackle, the demon departed, her final words echoing through Dean Winchester's mind before being chased away by his own pained screams as he transformed.


	2. Chapter One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you keep your feet on the ground
> 
> When you know that you were born to fly?
> 
> -"Born to Fly" Sara Evans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, here is the casting list: Castiel is Belle, Dean is the Beast, Sam is Cogsworth, Gabriel is Lumiere, Adam is a teacup, and Lucifer is (sort of) Gaston. And now that you guys have all of the pertinent info, on with the show. And thank you to my beautiful, talented, completely narcissistic beta Delu.

Castiel was weird. Everyone in the small town his family now lived in knew that it was so. It had been much easier to remain somewhat anonymous in the large city they had come from. In Lawrence, if he never went out and spent all of his time reading unorthodox books, then he was called eccentric. Since they now lived in Sioux Falls – and working outside in the full view of the public was required as a part of their lowered status – Castiel was seen as the freak with wings.

Of course, no one came out and told him that. Actually, everyone was suspiciously nice to him. They called him Angel and treated him as such. All Castiel felt when they did this, however, was a creeping loneliness more oppressive than when he was sequestered away with his books. Here, in this new place, his isolation wasn't by choice but by virtue of what the townspeople thought he was, and the difference was startlingly clear to him.

Unable to do anything about it (for to disabuse this notion was to invite other claims of witchcraft and demonic worship), Castiel went about his business tending the neighbor's fields alongside his wingless brother, Michael; his father worked miscellaneous jobs, being too old to be of much use in the fields. When he had time, he tried to cultivate new hobbies to replace the great amount of time he had spent reading, as there was no library in their new, much smaller town. This was easier said than done, however, as he tried a multitude of activities with the result being that he either was no good at them or did not particularly enjoy them. After a disastrous attempt at knitting (there was a yarn explosion, enough said), he decided to venture outside to a setting where he would hopefully cause less damage.

Here, he discovered plants. Of course, he had known plants existed, but he had never simply sat and watched them grow before; he found them strangely fascinating. He would lie around for hours when he wasn't working and stare at the plants as they moved minutely up toward the sun. One day, he decided he wanted to watch his favorite tree grow from high up in the branches. He climbed up (and up and up) before settling in the embrace of the tree's uppermost limbs. Castiel sat there until the moon rose and he could hear his brother calling for him from their house nearby.

As he attempted to make his way down to the ground, the branch upon which he had stopped to rest broke, sending him plummeting toward the forest floor. Without conscious thought on Castiel's part, his wings snapped open to save him, catching somewhat painfully on the air beneath them and slowing his descent. Eyes wide in amazement, Castiel flapped his wings experimentally, wincing a little at the tension in the previously unused muscles, and was instantly gratified when his body jerked upward slightly before resuming its downward glide.

From that day onward, Castiel divided what free time he had between watching his plants and teaching himself to fly, the former bringing rest and relaxation greatly needed as a result of the stress caused by the latter.

Castiel had never given much thought to flying before. Of course, when he was a child, he had wanted to do so instinctively. He had brought the issue to his father who had told him in no uncertain terms that flying was not a good idea due to the chances of him being seen. Being given more toward careful thought over acts of impulse, Castiel had reasoned that he should simply not attempt it at all. Escaping into his books made him happy enough as it was, and since going out into the city wasn't safe for him, he didn't risk it. In the city, Castiel had neither the space nor the opportunity to even try to fly anyway, so the point was moot.

Now, he couldn't imagine how he had ever lived without it. The freedom it afforded him was better than anything he had previously imagined. Once he was proficient enough, Castiel found himself flying over the Ilchester Forest at night while his father and brother slept. It left him tired the next day but saved him from prying eyes and the gossip of the townspeople.

Castiel's twentieth birthday came and went during the planting season; as with the previous years, there was no special celebration in honor of it. Castiel didn't mind much considering he didn't like being the center of attention anyway. His family, noticing his affinity for plants, had managed to find some flower seeds and clear out a small plot on their land for him to start a garden. Castiel was thrilled in his own quiet way, even going so far as to grace them with one of his rare smiles.

He had left the house almost immediately to plant them after thanking his father and brother profusely (well, profusely for Castiel, which meant that he smiled and murmured a polite, "Thank you so very much."). Castiel dropped to his knees in the loose soil of the garden and began digging out small holes for the seeds with his hands. After he had made one row, he went back to the beginning of the row and sprinkled a few seeds in each hole before covering it over with earth. He repeated this process until all of the seeds were planted and he was completely covered in with dirt.

Dusting himself off, Castiel stood to survey his handiwork. There were sixteen new little mounds where he had planted his seeds. Castiel grinned; he had done that. Those plants would grow because of him. Joy filled him and he felt as though he might burst. His wings spread themselves of their own volition and before he knew it he was soaring over the forests in a direction he had never flown before.

As it turned out, there was a reason the villagers had suggested he not travel in that direction.

As Castiel flew over the unfamiliar stretch of forest, he spotted a soft glow emanating from a large clearing in the trees ahead of him. He didn't think this was particularly odd considering that one had to travel through these woods to get to and from the port city Providence and clearings were good spots for making camp. What was strange was the fact that the path was not even remotely close to this part of the forest and the clearing itself was huge, taking up what must amount to twenty acres of what should be forest. Being naturally curious, Castiel flew closer until he was finally able to land in front of the source of the light, only to stiffen and stare up at it in awe.

The castle rose out of the ground in front of Castiel and loomed among a curious and suddenly appearing fog. The lights Castiel had spotted were positioned in brackets on either side of an enormous metal gate, entrenched in a stone wall that stretched around the huge area covered by both the castle and the attached grounds. The iron of the gate was worked into a circular crest reminiscent of a star inscribed within a sun and Castiel, beyond all odds, recognized it. His eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the realization of just where he was.

The crest belonged to the House of Winchester – or rather the Winchester Family, a family of demon hunters that had been killed off over a hundred years before Castiel had even been born. How was the castle in such good repair when the owners had been dead for so long, Castiel wondered. He reached out and tugged at the gate in the vain hope that they would actually open.

They didn't.

He spread his wings and prepared to go in from above. He let himself drift down to the ground on the other side…

…only to be repelled by some kind of force about a yard above the line of the wall.

Castiel frowned and flew toward the castle. This time, as he was in full flight and not simply drifting, the force threw him back several feet. He noticed that the field was much higher in this area and decided to test it a bit more before flying back to the house.

After a few more run-ins with the invisible boundary, Castiel decided to give up for the night. While hurling himself against the barrier did not hurt him, it was rather disorienting, not to mention exhausting.

His inquisitive mind refused to let the matter rest, though, and he resolved to come back the next night to suss it out. As best as Castiel could figure, the Barrier (which had somehow gained a capital letter in his mind) was dome-shaped and extended from the top edge of the stone wall to cover even the top spires of the castle. Castiel knew that there were few ways such a Barrier could be erected and that if it was keeping him out, it was likely keeping someone else in.

..........................................................................................................................................................

House of Winchester

"No! Where is he going?" a voice called out in horror.

"It's an angel! They actually exist," another one murmured. "There is hope."

"But he left!" the first voice cried in indignation. "Who the fuck does he think he is, huh? He left us trapped in here."

"He did try," the second voice reasoned. "And he probably didn't even know we were here."

"Damn, you are so hot when you try to reason with me," the first voice took on a decidedly lecherous tone. "Let's have sex." If the voice had eyebrows, they would have been waggling.

"Gabriel, we've been over this at least twice a day for the last – what, one hundred and fifty years?" The second voice was exasperated. "We can't have sex while we are in these forms. It is physically impossible. We already—"

"Gah!" A third voice cut the second off. "I don't want to hear about what you 'already.' Fucking spare me. And what about Adam, huh? He's young and impressionable—"

"I'm eighteen, Dean, and that's if you don't count the time I've spent as this."

"Whatever you say, Teaspoon," the third voice sounded skeptical. "All I'm saying is that hearing about how Gabe can't keep his nubby little candlesticks off my little brother isn't exactly my cup of tea."

"God damn it, Dean! I am so fucking sick of fucking tea jokes. If I hear 'I'm a Little Teapot' one more fucking time, I'll—" the one called Adam yelled at the one called Dean at the same time as Gabriel put in, "Well, if you wanted to know that badly, yesterday my nubby little candlesticks made your brother's pendulum swing—"

"Gabriel!" all of the other voices shouted at once.

"Anyways," the second voice cleared his throat. "Dean, did you see the angel?" Everyone sobered up when they heard the question. The angel was the first hope they had had in the many long years they had been stuck there.

Dean grunted in affirmation. "Yeah, I saw him, Sammy."

Sam, whose second hand was moving just a bit quicker around his face in time to what would have been his heartbeat, prompted, "And?"

Dean's voice lowered an octave as he blurted out, "Dude, he's a he! 'Nuff said!"

"Dean—" His voice warned Dean that Sam's Bitchface was about to make an appearance. And sure enough, Sam continued, "You can't afford to be picky, Dean. You aren't the only one who's cursed. Don't be selfish."

"Sam," Dean's voice was panicked. "I'm not gay. That's not being selfish. It's just facts."

Sam sighed. "Whatever. He might not even come back anyway."

"Jeez," Gabriel's voice interrupted the tense silence that had been developing. "You guys sure know how to brighten up a room." His voice turned teasing and started moving away from the group. "Hey, Sammy, wanna play that game that ends with my wax all over the inside of your –"

"Oh my God, Gabriel," Sam huffed, but his voice followed the other's much louder one. "How many times do I have to tell you not to say shit like that before you listen?"

The sounds of their bickering grew fainter as Adam groaned and said, "I'm going to the kitchen sink to scald that image from my brain." Then, he too was gone.

Dean let out a sigh he had been holding back before muttering to himself, "I hope he comes back."

..........................................................................................................................................................

Castiel returned the next night. And the night after that. And the night after that. He returned every night for weeks and attempted to break through the Barrier around the House of Winchester with absolutely no luck. He tried everything he could think of to get through. He flew straight at it and was repelled every time. He stole a sword from Michael's collection of weapons; it passed right through the Barrier, Castiel did not. In the final few days, his attempts denigrated to chucking rocks and reckless, futile nights of throwing himself bodily at the Barrier.

While his nights at the castle were full of frustration, the time he spent in the garden with his plants was anything but. Castiel relished the afternoons when he could spend hours watching his plants as they pushed their delicate stems through the soil and reached toward the sun.

One day, while he was in his garden and Michael was sitting against a nearby tree polishing his sword (the same one that Castiel had used against the Barrier), their father called out of the house to them, "Hey, ya idjits, get yer asses in here!" The brothers exchanged glances as they dusted themselves off and stood to join their father in the house.

Bobby wasn't a very refined man. It had always been somewhat of a mystery as to how he had fathered two sons as different from both himself and each other as Michael and Castiel. They were as well-mannered as any of the high-born lordlings who considered themselves above the brothers but polar opposites personality-wise. Castiel was quiet and reserved. While his presence filled a room (after all, it was hard to ignore those damn wings), Castiel himself was always remote and detached. Michael was vastly different from his brother. He was loud and his presence commanded the attention of all. If it weren't for his manners, Bobby knew that boy would be a buttload of trouble. Bobby also knew that he couldn't take credit for their pretty manners, but whatever, they caused him fewer problems than any other two idjit sons he could've had, so he wasn't complaining.

Back in the city, Bobby had owned a salvage yard for ships and carriages. It wasn't a very large business considering most damaged ships never made it back to port, but he made enough money to support himself and his sons (as well as Castiel's book addiction, and hell could that boy read) and really that was all that mattered to him.

And then Lucifer had risen.

Lucifer was a nasty piece of work. Supposedly driven mad by the death of his wife Lilith, he had gathered around him an army of demons, witches, and other supernatural creatures. Slowly he and his group had been moving around the country and demanding the surrender of anything they happened across.

When Bobby had heard that Lucifer was heading in their direction and that he had recently begun recruiting fallen angels, he had gathered up his sons and a few necessary or beloved odds and ends and moved them to the middle of bumfuck nowhere with forest surrounding it for who knows how far on all sides. He had done a pretty good job of keeping Castiel hidden when they lived in the city and he didn't intend for the kid to be taken and used as a pawn by a crazy-ass general with a chip on his shoulder.

They did need money, however, and as Castiel was stronger than any human, he made good money working on their neighbor's farm alongside his brother. It was money they couldn't afford to lose.

Money was the reason Bobby called them up to the house that evening. When his boys had settled down across from him at the table, Bobby started. "You boys remember my old friend, Rufus?" When they both nodded, he continued, "Well, he is working a job and he needs some help, so I'll be helping him out. I'll be back in two weeks, give or take. You two'll be just fine while I'm gone. Just take care of each other and try not to get yourselves killed."

Castiel was the first to speak after Bobby finished. "Of course father. We shall take care to do as you have asked."

Michael grinned at Castiel. "Don't worry, Castiel. I'll protect you." Michael cast Bobby a serious look telling him that for all that he looked as though he were teasing his younger brother (who hadn't even had the courtesy to give him the patented little brother Bitchface, instead staring back at him blankly), he was actually perfectly serious. His steady stare told Bobby that, yes, he could leave. Castiel would be fine.


	3. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything I say to you comes out wrong
> 
> It never comes out right, so I said…
> 
> -"Why Don't You & I" Santana

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ... breaks in this chapter denote a change in POV from Dean to Cas or vice versa. I hope you enjoy. :D

Bobby left the next morning with very little fanfare. Castiel, Michael, and a few people the family knew around town gathered to watch him leave and shout advice and instructions at him. One of their neighbors shook his hand before Bobby could get up onto his horse and said in a lowered voice, "If you are going that way," he nodded his head toward the path Bobby would be traveling through the forest, "stay on the path. Do not leave it for even a second. There are dangerous things in those woods."

A shiver chased its way up Bobby's spine as the man spoke, but he nodded in return before lifting himself up onto his horse's saddle. With a final wave and a meaningful look in Michael's direction (which was answered with a nonverbal confirmation of his promise to protect Castiel), Bobby steered his horse down the path and disappeared into the trees.

Castiel stared after him for a second before turning to the neighbor, a man named Bill Harvelle who owned a bar called the Roadhouse (improperly named perhaps, as Sioux Falls did not even have a road, being little more than a collection of buildings). At the moment, Mr. Harvelle was standing beside his wife, Ellen, and their daughter, Jo. "What are these 'dangerous things' you speak of?" Castiel asked, his eyebrows furrowing as all of his concentration focused on the man he was questioning.

Bill shifted a bit awkwardly under the intense scrutiny. "I have never seen it myself, but there is a legend about a horrific beast living inside a castle deep within Ilchester Forest. According to the stories, he helps out lost travelers if they happen to stumble across his land and lets them go without any trouble." He looked away from Castiel, then back again. "Never heard of him actually hurting anyone, but it's still better if people just steer clear of that area of the forest altogether and stay on the path."

Little Jo came up to Castiel from where she had been standing between her parents and tugged at the sleeve of his plain work shirt. "Are you going to smite the Beast, Angel?" she asked him, not even trying to disguise the way her eyes were following the miniscule movements his wings were making as they fluttered in the slight breeze.

"Joanna Beth!" Ellen started to protest, though whether it was in reaction to the question itself or Jo's usage of the nickname Sioux Falls used behind his back, Castiel did not know.

"It is alright, Ellen," Castiel reassured her. Jo was only a little girl after all; she probably thought that Angel was his real name. He smiled at Jo as he knelt down to her eyelevel. "No, Jo, I am not going to 'smite the Beast', as you say. I am not a proponent of violence, so I would not be one to do such a thing." He paused and looked in the direction of the House of Winchester. "Besides, I cannot even get into the castle as it is," he added, almost as an afterthought.

Michael's head jerked up when he heard that and the Harvelles stared at Castiel. "You have been to this castle, Castiel?" Michael demanded in his 'I'm a protective older brother' voice.

Castiel resisted the urge to roll his eyes and simply met his brother's glare. "Yes, I have," he replied. "But as I said, I cannot get in."

Michael looked slightly flummoxed. "When—?" he trailed off. "How long has this been going on?"

Castiel gave Michael a baffled look and tilted his head quizzically as if to ask, 'Why is this in the least bit important?', but he answered the question, "I have been going there every night since my birthday."

"Your birthday!" Michael burst out. "That was over a month ago! How are you even getting there?"

Castiel looked surprised as he responded. "I flew, obviously," he said, as though it was common knowledge and Michael was slow for not knowing. Then the realization spread over his face and he guessed, "You did not know?"

"What? That you could fly?" Michael looked like he wanted to hit something. "How was I supposed to know?"

"I knew!" Jo shrieked and stretched her arm up into the air to draw everyone's attention. Bill and Ellen looked down at the ground somewhat guiltily as Jo added, "Mommy and Daddy knew too; I told them." She looked back to where Castiel was still kneeling in front of her. "I saw you fly over our house. Is it fun being able to fly? It looks like fun."

Castiel looked at her uncertainly and told her, "Yes, it is quite enjoyable."

Michael was glaring at him and muttered something about not being able to protect him if he was in the air, before shaking his head and stalking into the house, leaving Castiel and the three Harvelles staring after him.

Castiel turned back to Jo and reassured her, "Do not worry. It was nothing you did, Jo." He shot her a small smile. "He is simply upset because I can now go where he cannot follow."

She looked slightly relieved at his explanation, but her lingering hesitation made Castiel think that she was still upset about something. He waited patiently as she squirmed a bit before blurting out. "Will your Daddy react like that too?" She bit her lip. "What if I'm not around to protect you next time?"

Her concerned question started a genuine laugh out of Castiel. "My father already knows; he doesn't miss a thing." He chuckled again before adding, "I thank you kindly for your protection, Jo."

Jo grinned broadly at him and then started marching up the road, calling back to her parents, "We can leave now. Goodbye, Angel." Bill and Ellen looked slightly stunned—as though the entire exchange between their daughter and the town's Angel was reshaping reality—and after saying a quick goodbye to Castiel (to his consternation, they both used the moniker 'Angel' as well), they hurried after their daughter.

Castiel lifted himself from where he was still kneeling on the ground and dusted off his pants. He looked toward the house where his brother was waiting and then off toward the castle. Making the quick decision that he didn't want to deal with his brother's over-protective nature at the moment, he spread his wings and started flying.

..........................................................................................................................................................

House of Winchester

Dean Winchester, otherwise known as the Beast of Winchester Castle, was having a bad day. The feather dusters—or 'pompous feathered dicks,' as Dean liked to call them—were being particularly annoying this morning, carrying on and on about how this was all his fault and how he was the only one who could stop it. Seriously, with the way they carried on, you'd think he'd started the fucking apocalypse rather than just getting them all cursed and trapped in the castle for the past hundred and fifty years.

Okay, so maybe they had reason to be slightly upset.

But, really, they were holding grudges like a bunch of girls. The only actual girl in the bunch was a chick named Anna who would be cool if only Dean hadn't banged her for-fucking-ever ago when they had been human (even though they had both made peace with it, Dean still didn't like hanging out with her). She didn't really give a damn one way or another about the whole "being cursed" thing. Dean thought the reason might be because she had a thing for the groundskeeper/gardener Joshua and enjoyed the extra time she got to spend with him. Zachariah, Uriel, and Raphael on the other hand… Nasty, whiny little bitches that never shut up about the unfairness of their situation.

Dean had woken up in a bad mood that morning anyway and the feather duster's endless bitching and moaning did nothing to calm his temper. The Angel had not shown up that night and—though he tried to stop the thought from forming—he worried that at long last he might have given up.

He made his way through the castle, up to the top spire, which was where he went when he needed to be alone. Everyone in the castle knew that when he went up there, he was not to be disturbed.

When he arrived in the small stone room at the top of the stairs, he went over to the small window on the side of the circular chamber opposite the door and slumped against the wall beneath it. Dean would never admit it (God forbid if Sammy ever found out), but he enjoyed listening to the birds chirping as they hopped along the roof eating the seed he put up there every evening. As they were frightened by his presence, he stayed seated below the window rather than watching them as he would have liked to do. Today, however, he heard the birds winging away less than ten minutes after he had arrived to make way for the sound of much larger wings making their way toward him.

Dean chanced peaking over the edge of the window to see what had scared away the birds and when he saw what it was he felt a relieved grin break over his face.

It was the angel. Dean could see that he was throwing himself against the invisible Barrier as he had every night for the past six weeks. The point at which the angel was attacking the Barrier was mere yards from the stone framed window through which Dean was watching him; Dean took the opportunity to catalogue his features. The most prominent thing about him was of course his fucking huge black wings. They spread out to at least seven feet on either side of his body, making him appear massive and intimidating. The human part of him wasn't so large, however. He wasn't a small man, but he was an inch or two shorter than the height Dean had been as a human and his muscles were less bulky. For all that he had never before been attracted to a man, Dean could see that the Angel had a very nice body. What really drew him in, however, was the angel's face. Black brows, full lips, and an impressively strong jawline framed the most beautiful blue eyes Dean had ever seen on either a man or a woman. Dean felt that if those eyes were to catch his, they would hold him and he would never be free of them again.

And then the unthinkable happened when the angel's gaze moved up to meet his.

..........................................................................................................................................................

When Castiel noticed the green eyes peering out at him from over a window ledge, his first reaction was shock. There were people here! Castiel hadn't been sure why he was trying so hard to get past the Barrier apart from the feeling that he needed to do so. He felt somewhat vindicated now. There was a reason for everything. Then, a heat and longing blasted through him as that gaze met his, rendering him unable to think, unable to move, unable to do anything but hold those green eyes with his. They stared at each other for what seemed like endless moments before a deep rumbling voice interrupted the silence.

"Are you here to kill us, Angel?"

...

Dean wanted to smack himself. Couldn't he have come up with something a hell of a lot better than asking the fucking angel of his dreams whether he intended to kill him? Jesus, this wasn't going to end well.

...

Castiel tilted his head in a questioning manner as he spoke. "I am no angel," he said, his voice deep but lifting slightly at the end as though he were questioning his own answer.

...

 _Holy fucking shit, how did that voice come out of that body? And did angels have hypnotizing abilities?_ 'Cause, hell, he could've asked Dean anything in that voice, and he would have given in without a second thought. Oh god, he was turning into a fucking teenage girl. Sam was going to laugh his ass off if he heard about this.

...

The eyes just stared at Castiel for a second as though mesmerized and he finally noticed the rest of the face they were set in—or at least what he could see over the edge of the window. The Beast was quite hairy with fur covering every inch of what Castiel could see and large upright canine ears set behind demonic-looking horns of equal size.

The Beast seemed to collect himself for the space of a second; then, he answered Castiel's earlier denial with, "What the fuck are you then?"

...

The angel didn't flinch at the coarse language, Dean noticed, and it made him like the Angel more. Even Sam got onto him for his language at times. "I do not know what I am," the angel told him. "But I do know that I dislike being called Angel. They refer to me as such in the village and it makes me somewhat of an outcast. It is as though they do not even know my name," he scowled.

Dean couldn't resist and he voiced the next question before he had even consciously thought about it. "What is your name?" Dean noticed that the angel looked surprised—as though nobody had ever asked him this before—and felt sadness course through him on the angel's behalf.

...

"Castiel," he replied. "My name is Castiel." Then he smiled at the Beast in pure happiness—for truly no one had ever asked him for his name before. Then, because he really did wish to know, he returned the question. "And you? What are you called?"

...

Dean felt an emotion he had never felt before flow through him at the sight of the angel (Castiel, his mind provided with yet another surge of girly happiness) smiling at him. _What the fuck had Castiel asked him again? Oh yeah…_

"Dean," he provided.

"Dean," Castiel repeated, his eyes widening. Dean felt a familiar heat run through him as Castiel said his name. _God damn it, what the fuck is wrong with me?_ Castiel hesitated for a few seconds before the question burst out of him. "As in, Dean Winchester?"

Dean burst up from where he had been crouched, demanding, "How the fuck did you know that?"

...

Castiel's eyes nearly doubled in size as he caught sight of what Dean had been hiding behind the wall. The rest of his body was covered with fur as well, but that wasn't what startled Castiel. It was the long curved tusks that jutted up from beneath his bottom lip and the cruel-looking claws that he sported on what used to be hands but were now more like paws. Surprisingly enough, he felt no fear. He was rather startled by Dean's appearance but he didn't generate the bone-chilling terror Castiel had been expecting. Now that he thought about it, he supposed fear was a most unnecessary emotion to feel around Dean. After all, he had once been human and he still acted like a human. Also, Castiel was almost certain by this point that the Barrier kept Dean in just as it kept Castiel out. Besides, Castiel realized that he already _liked_ Dean and smiled slightly in his relief that Dean's appearance didn't change this.

...

 _What the fuck?_ Dean thought. Why the hell wasn't he screaming and flying away, never to return—never to free them? And why did that fucking smile of his make Dean want to do back flips to make it happen again?

"What?" Dean snapped, his face taking on a confused expression that made Castiel chuckle deep in his throat. Dean was torn between feeling pleased that he had miraculously made Castiel laugh and upset because Castiel was laughing at him.

...

When Castiel saw the hurt in Dean's eyes, his laughter quickly dried up. "Dean," Castiel said, his voice serious and his eyes intense once more. "I was not laughing at you. I was merely amused by the fact that someone had told me that you were horrific and hideous when I find you to be at most slightly unsettling."

Dean's face went slack with surprised awe and he mumbled, "You are nothing like I thought you would be."

Castiel tilted his head, a perplexed expression on his face. "What did you think I would be?"

Dean waved a paw in Castiel's direction and Castiel got the feeling that he was self-conscious. "You know—" he told Castiel. When Castiel just stared at him, Dean let out a loud rumbling sigh that sounded almost like a growl. "You're a fucking angel. I thought you'd be a bit more… You know, angelic or some shit like that." Dean was rambling. He knew he was rambling and yet he couldn't seem to stop himself. Castiel wasn't doing a damn thing to help him with that either, what with the staring and all. Shit. "I thought you'd meet me and I'd fuck it up and then you'd leave or try to kill me and then we'd be cursed forever and—"

Castiel cut him off. "You mean that I can save you? How?" he demanded urgently. "I can't even get past the Barrier."

...

Dean looked away from Castiel and refused to meet his eyes. "I don't know how exactly," Dean hedged and Castiel knew he was lying, but Dean's feeling of humiliation was almost tangible, so he said nothing. "I just know that an angel is supposed to break the curse. My brother Sam is a geek-brained loser. He has nothing better to do. He'll think of some way to break the Barrier."

Dean stared at the ground resolutely. He couldn't tell Castiel that they would need to… _No fucking way. Too embarrassing._

Castiel simply nodded and continued to gaze intently at him. Dean felt himself beginning to fidget and knew he needed to say something.

"So," Dean blurted out. "Tell me about yourself. What do you do when you're not here?"

"Well," Castiel started. "My family and I moved into the forest from a rather large city called Lawrence. When we were there, I wasn't allowed out much because of my wings, so I helped my father out at the salvage yard and read in my spare time. That's how I knew about you. There were many books with conspiracy theories about what happened to your family, Dean. You were rather well-known," Castiel informed him. "When I saw the Winchester Crest on the gate and you told me your name, I concluded that you must be the Dean Winchester."

"You're a smart one, aren't you?" Dean sighed. "Hell, I'm surrounded by geeks, why not add nerd angels to the bunch?" Dean shook himself out of his thoughts. "So what do you do now that you live out here with us mud monkeys? We aren't as sophisticated as those city fuckers. I'm sure there isn't a library or any shit like that wherever you're living."

"No," Castiel said, not sounding upset by it at all. "I have discovered new hobbies for when I am not working." He didn't continue.

"So?" Dean prompted. "What are they?"

"Well, I discovered a fondness for observing plants as they grow, which led to an interest in growing my own in the garden my father and brother gave me for my birthday." Castiel smiled a shy smile of pleasure at the memory. Dean's heart sped up at the sight of Castiel's smile and he resolutely ignored it. "I enjoy flying as well. It is very freeing." He looked slightly wistful for a second then his gaze sharpened to focus on Dean. "That is how I found you. I was so excited after I planted those seeds in my garden that I flew in a direction that I had been warned not to go in." His eyes took on an amused glint for all that his voice did not change inflection in the least. "I wonder why the villagers would tell me to avoid this part of the forest." He looked around as if in surprise. "It is quite lovely."

Castiel's deadpan humor surprised a bark of laughter out of Dean. "Jeez, Cas," Dean growled around the rather scary looking grin that refused to leave his face. "You didn't tell me that you had a sense of humor."

 _Cas?_ Dean thought. _Where the fuck had that come from?_ Dean looked closely at Cas's face. He didn't seem to mind so Dean would ignore his slip up and go with it.

...

Castiel noticed the shortening of his name but he didn't comment—no one had ever given him a nickname before. "Yes, well, you did not ask," Castiel said. Yet another span of time passed in which they did nothing but stare at each other. Strangely enough, it wasn't awkward at all. Castiel wanted to speak, however, so he broke the silence. "Dean, how have you kept yourself occupied in the vast amount of time you must have been here?"

Dean shrugged—well, he attempted to anyway. "I don't do much actually. I can't clean my weapons or practice with them anymore, which used to be a big part of what I did in my off time. I can't hunt either because I can't leave the castle grounds." Castiel nodded when Dean confirmed his suspicions about the Barrier. "Mostly, I bug my little brothers and I feed the birds and I wait." Castiel could hear the loneliness in Dean's voice—could see it in his eyes—and it strengthened his resolve.

"I will find a way to get you out of here, Dean," Castiel stated, no doubt in his voice and so completely serious that his voice was dragged down an octave. "I swear it to you." Dean didn't have faith in much, but now, hell, he wanted to have faith in Castiel.

..........................................................................................................................................................

Cas left soon after that, saying something about his brother being upset with him. He had also told Dean that he would not be coming back that night, but that he would see Dean the next night. Dean had promised to be waiting for him.

Dean was in a very good mood for the rest of the day. He even toned down the amount of pranks he played on his brothers that day. He kept it down to two, and as one had been done before Cas had shown up, Dean figured that it didn't count, so really, it was just one. He even said something downright nice to Gabriel, whom he actually got along okay with, as long as the guy wasn't being a total asshole (though neither would ever admit to it). When Sam asked him if Gabriel had slipped something into his food again (yeah, Sam was the only one brave enough to bring that up), Dean's mood didn't darken, he just smiled and said, "Everything's great, Sammy."

"It's Sam," he corrected Dean automatically. He didn't really care about that at the moment. There was something up with his brother and Sam was going to find out what it was.

When he consulted Gabriel on the matter, Gabriel started laughing. "He's happy because his Angel came to visit him this morning. The big baby actually stopped acting like a prepubescent girl with a crush long enough to talk to him."

Sam looked at Gabriel incredulously. "How the hell do you know that?"

Gabriel leered at him. "I'll exchange information for sexual favors." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"No, Gabriel, tell me what you know," Sam demanded.

"Fine," Gabriel huffed. "I followed Dean up to that tower of his and—"

"You followed Dean up there?" Sam sounded offended on Dean's behalf. "And you didn't bring me with you?" Sam's face was in full-on puppy dog pout mode.

Gabriel snorted. "You and I both know that you can't sneak anywhere, so I did us both a favor and went by myself." Sam looked at him in both embarrassment and understanding, shuffling the base of his body a little bit. Even that small movement made quite a bit of noise as wood scraped against stone. Considering his point made, Gabriel took that as his cue to continue. "Anyway, the angel showed up a little while after Dean got there and I left when they started eyefucking as if I wasn't even there." He slapped a wounded expression onto his face and sniffed as though the pain of being overlooked was too great a burden to bear.

"Eyefucking?" Sam completely ignored Gabriel's attempt at playing the victim. "What the hell is eyefucking?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Sam? I thought it was pretty self-explanatory." He sighed. "Oh, Sammy, such an innocent." He started talking very slowly as if speaking to a child. "You see, eyefucking is what happens when a complete idiot—that would be your brother, by the way—is so good at repressing both his emotions and his sexuality that when he meets his Angel, he isn't man enough to actually do anything about it. Instead, he uses his eyes to get the message across. You see, your brother's eyes were—"

"Stop!" Sam put his fingerless palms up as if they could actually stop Gabriel's words. "I don't need to hear about what my brother's eyes were doing to that angel. I've walked in on him enough times as it is and I don't need you adding any more perverted imagery to my brain."

Gabriel grinned at him lasciviously. "Speaking of perverted imagery, what about those sexual favors we were discussing earlier?" He advanced on Sam in a predatory manner. This was a rather hilarious image actually, considering Sam had about five feet on Gabriel height-wise and—well let's not get into the weight issue; Sam's a bit… sensitive.

"Gabriel," Sam said weakly and allowed Gabriel to lead him back to their bedroom. Not that they actually used a bed—seeing as they were now a grandfather clock and a candelabra—but it was a remnant from when they had been human. Besides they had to have somewhere to, well, you know…

Ten minutes later, they realized that no matter how hard they tried, they still couldn't have sex in their current forms.

"God damn it!" Gabriel banged out of their room as if he were on fire. _Oh yeah, he is,_ Sam thought, then groaned internally. _Really lame joke._ "Why didn't you remind me that it wouldn't work like you usually do?"

Sam shrugged and looked a bit sheepish. "You did that thing where you take charge and act like you're bigger than me. You know how hot that makes me."

"Shit," Gabriel cursed as he attempted to jump on Sam and plant a kiss on his lips. It wasn't as dramatic as it would have been had they been human; Sam had to lift Gabriel after he tried and failed to jump high enough the first few times. "When we turn back into humans, I am so going to fuck your brains out."

..........................................................................................................................................................

Dean wasn't ready to tell Sam and Adam about Cas yet. For one thing, Sam would tell Gabriel which would lead to it being spread around the rest of the castle. Gabriel liked to talk and Dean knew it. He wasn't ready for the hopeful looks or for the stupid feather dusters to start pestering him again. And god damn it, Dean just wanted to fucking enjoy being the only one to talk to Cas for now. He knew that once Sam heard, he would want to speak with Cas and Dean didn't want to share. Cas was _his_ Angel.

He and Cas met up on several occasions after that first time and Dean found himself loosening up a bit. Instead of meeting up at the tallest tower and forcing Cas to hover over him while they talked, they sat on either side of the front gate. Not only was this much more comfortable for Cas, but it also brought them closer together, allowing Dean to read the small changes in Castiel's expression as he spoke—and he spoke a lot.

Castiel hadn't struck Dean as a talkative person, but the longer they spent in contact with each other, the better Dean got at making Castiel talk about himself. He told Dean all about his father, Bobby, leaving; the fight between he and his brother, Michael; and how he spent his days working in the fields. For his part, Dean found that Cas could get him to admit to things that he had never told anyone before. He had revealed to Cas his guilt over all of the people he had trapped here through his association with that fucking demon and ranted for almost twenty minutes about his hate-hate relationship with the feather dusters.

Dean knew that his brothers and the rest of the castle's occupants watched he and Cas every night. He could almost feel their desperate stares on the back of his neck, but he didn't care as long as they stayed inside and he was able to hang out with Cas. He was actually somewhat surprised when after nearly two weeks, Sam hadn't dragged his huge ass outside and forced them to endure his company.

After this occurred to him, Dean decided to ask Sam about it at dinner, only to have him laugh and reply, "Dude, do you really want me to come out there and cockblock you?" Sam wasn't laughing a second later when Dean started spluttering and spit his dinner out all over him.

It started raining soon after dinner ended. Dean glared up at the fucking clouds that were ruining his night before staring somewhat dejectedly out at the forest. He didn't try to fool himself into thinking that Cas would be coming that night—not in all of this rain. He understood why, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

Sam and Adam decided to distract him by dragging him off to play poker for a few hours. It wasn't really the best example of a poker game that Dean had ever seen, but it was distracting—what with Dean attempting to hustle his brothers out of their chips, Gabriel 'whispering' possible moves to Sam, and Adam leaving wet tea spots on all of his cards.

Just before midnight, the wind stopped shrieking long enough for them to hear wolves howling and the gates in front of Winchester Castle creaking open before crashing shut. The three brothers—and Gabriel—looked at each other before rushing toward the front hall.

As they reached the entryway, they were in time to watch the handle turn and the door swing open to admit a stumbling, haggard-looking man in from the rain.


	4. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When life had locked me out
> 
> I turned to you and you opened the door.
> 
> -"Knock Knock" Lenka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter. Enjoy.

Bobby wasn't usually one to panic, but under the circumstances he felt somewhat justified. Rain pounded down on Ilchester Forest, ensuring that he was soaking wet in next to no time; wolves were biting at his heels as he ran and he lost track of the path when he dodged around a tree to avoid a set of snapping teeth, slipping on the wet leaves. He panted in exhaustion and forced his legs to pump faster in the vain hope that he would be able to escape becoming the wolves' next meal. Bobby wouldn't try to con himself into thinking that he would make it out of this alive, but like hell was he gonna lie down and die either.

He was so focused on the danger behind him that he didn't notice the gate before him until he had almost crashed into it. He noticed the strange symbol that was welded into the iron and hesitated for a second— _This place could be dangerous_ —before the howling of the wolves at his back made the decision for him. Figuring he had nothing to lose, he fumbled with the latch, pushed on the gates, and (to his surprise) they opened immediately. He hurried through and slammed them shut seconds before the closest wolf hurled itself at him. The animal's body hit the metal and it whimpered, rising to attack again with the rest of its pack. Bobby backed away from the gate—and incidentally the slobbering predators—before turning around to look at the castle. _What the hell?_ he thought. _Might as well get this over with._ He started up the cobblestone walkway leading to the manor.

As he approached the gloomy structure, he assessed it and kept an eye out for any movement. Unlikely as it was— _the castle was out in the middle of a forest with no civilization nearby for God's sake_ —Bobby thought there might actually be people living here. There was light coming from inside and the place was well-kept despite the depressing vibe it gave off. He reached the front doors and with a shake of his head, grasped the door handle to let himself in.

He staggered a bit as he crossed the threshold, dripping water on the pristine rugs that decorated the entranceway. He shivered a bit and edged his way further into the house. It was only when he had started taking stock of his surroundings that he noticed the four pairs of eyes staring out at him from one of the darkened corridors leading off of the main hall. Then, he froze in shock as he made out the faces the eyes belonged to.

They were… not human. The one on the far right was a tea cup. A tea cup with blue eyes and a nose and a mouth. Bobby could make out a pattern of the same star symbol from the gates going around its top edge and the faint water trail on the stone floor leading up to the place where the little tea cup sat. Next to it, there was a huge grandfather clock—taller than Bobby was himself—with a candlestick holder reclined on one of its broad shoulders. _Since when could candlestick holders recline?_ Bobby thought. _And is it **smirking** at me?_ His gaze moved on to the fourth set of eyes and he stumbled back as a bolt of fear shot through him. The Beast was enormous with jagged claws on all four limbs, pointed spikes of bone protruding from its forehead, and what looked like razor sharp teeth jutting up from its lower jaw. Damn it all, maybe he should have stayed outside with the wolves.

..........................................................................................................................................................

Dean stared at the human that had just stumbled into their castle. It had happened before but that didn't mean it was an everyday occurrence. In fact, it had only happened—he counted in his head—about ten times in the past hundred and fifty years and the last time had been well over three decades ago. The appearance of the man got him thinking; he turned to Sam. "Dude, how come this guy can get in and Cas can't?"

Sam's face was pensive. "I've been thinking about that actually. I think that Meg must have done a spell to keep angels out."

"Yeah, before she cold-cocked you," Gabriel added with glee. "How does it feel being taken out by a girl, Dean?"

"Shut the fuck up," Dean growled. "It wasn't a girl. It was a demon." He felt heat creeping up into his cheeks and for once was glad that he had fur covering his face.

Gabriel opened his mouth to respond, but Adam cut him off. "Guys, are you forgetting something?" he asked sarcastically. When they just looked at him cluelessly, he sighed. " _Him,_ " he gestured toward the man in front of them.

Sam looked a bit chagrined. "Right." He chuckled sheepishly. "Sorry about that," he said to the guy. "Who are you again?"

The man still seemed to be working through his shock but answered the question as if on autopilot. "Bobby." He shook himself and a defiant look overtook his face. "Well, if yer gonna kill me, get the hell over here and do it. I ain't got all night."

Sam was the one who looked stunned now. "Kill you? Why would we do that?"

Bobby appeared uncertain now. "Ain't that what monsters do?" he asked them. "Got a friend who hunts the suckers and he's never short on business if ya know what I mean."

Dean bristled. "Who the fuck are you calling a monster?" he snapped. Bobby reared back a bit at the tone in his voice.

Sam huffed in slight annoyance and aimed a bitchface at his brother. "Settle down, Dean. You know what you look like and God knows you've been egged on by Gabriel enough times. You should be over it by now."

Dean rolled his eyes but his shoulders relaxed. "Says the guy who still cries in front of the mirror because he can't fix his hair in the morning," he retorted. Then he continued, speaking loudly to drown out Sam's mortified protestations. "Bobby, is it? Calm the fuck down. We aren't gonna kill you so relax, dude."

Gabriel decided to add his two cents then. "Yeah, _dude_ , relax. Pull up a chair. Tell us about yourself."

Bobby hesitated. "Was that an order or a request?"

"An order," Gabriel and Dean chorused.

Sam scowled at them before turning back to Bobby. "I'm sorry about them. It's just... Well, we can't actually leave the castle grounds, so we haven't seen a human in a long time. Some news of the outside world might be nice." He gestured Bobby into the sitting room off of the entrance hall.

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand and sat down on one of the couches. "Don't know how much I can tell you really. My boys and I just moved into Ilchester Forest, so I haven't been keepin' up with the times either. Just on my way back from helpin' out that friend I told ya 'bout and I get chased off the path by some God dang wolves." He shook his head. "My boys're gonna be worried if I'm not back soon."

"Tell us about them," Dean blurted out. There was a gnawing feeling growing in his gut. He couldn't figure out what it meant though.

"Well, okay then," Bobby said, his face softening. "My boys're brilliant really. My older son was a soldier before we moved out here. Pretty high ranking too." The pride in his voice was hard to miss. "Coulda been one of the best if his brother and I hadn't needed him. My youngest loves to read and he's really smart. Boy didn't get out as much as he probably shoulda growing up so he's got no social skills to speak of, but wasn't like I could just let him wander about outside either. Castiel's one of those who gets lost in his own head. Woulda been kidnapped or worse if I let him go about on his own." He smiled in fondness for his sons and completely missed the looks that crossed over the rest of the faces in the room.

Dean sucked in a breath. _Castiel,_ he thought. _Castiel's freakin' father._ He looked over at his brother and saw that he hadn't missed the name either. Sam's face creased into the one he wore when he was thinking very hard before breaking into a grin of triumph. "I'll be right back. I have to go to the library. Take Bobby up to a room; he looks like he's about to pass out."

..........................................................................................................................................................

"Oh my gosh, dude, wake up!"

Dean grumbled and his claws tightened around a pillow before he lifted his arm to heft the projectile at his brother. He heard a ripping noise as the pillow left his hand—er, paw—but he didn't care enough to look, simply snuggling back into his blankets and preparing to go back to sleep.

"God damn it, Dean, not again!" Sam shouted as he was coated with feathers.

"Oh, stop complaining Sammy," a familiar voice cut in. "You know you have a secret feather kink." He heard the telltale clink-clink of Gabriel as he hopped toward them. He wasn't surprised since Gabriel tended not to stray far from Sam's side for the most part, but his words had Dean groaning and covering his ears.

"Fine, I'm up. I'm up," Dean moaned. He sat up and shot an annoyed look at his younger brother. "Why the fuck are you waking me up at who the hell knows how early in the morning?"

"Dean, stop complaining. I haven't even been to bed yet," Sam said indignantly. "Besides, I knew you would want to know about this as soon as possible; it's about Castiel." Dean's head shot up and his eyes were instantly alert. Sam took a deep breath. "I know how to get him past the Barrier."

"Tell me," Dean demanded. "How?"

"Okay, so when I was in the library—" he started.

Dean grunted. "Sammy, pretend for a second you were talking to someone who didn't give a damn about all that library crap and skip to the part where you tell me how."

Sam rolled his eyes and continued. "Fine, whatever. I found this ritual that involves a blood pact and I came up with a plan. You aren't going to like it, but it might be the only shot we've got."

Dean eyed him warily. "Okay, what's this plan of yours?"

..........................................................................................................................................................

Bobby woke up and thought he was dreaming. He was surrounded by those creatures from his dream last night and he wondered vaguely if he needed to see someone to get his mind straight. Then he realized that it hadn't been a dream.

"Bobby," Sam said almost apologetically and Bobby knew that whatever he was going to say, it wasn't going to be good. "We're really sorry about this."

"God, Sammy, just get it over with already," Dean said impatiently before looking back at Bobby. "We need your help. We are trapped here and the only one who can save us is Castiel." He took a deep breath. "Cas and I already know each other but there is magic keeping him out and in order to save us he needs to be in here. With us."

Bobby stared back at him. _Castiel has friends. I'll be damned._ "What exactly is it you think my son can do for you?"

Sam shuffled forward a bit. "The demon that cursed Dean said that only an angel could save him by—"

Dean growled. "Sam," he warned. "Don't."

Sam bitchfaced. "For Christ's sake, Dean, Cas is going to find out eventually. Might as well stop being embarrassed about it before he does." He ignored his brother's grumbling. "The angel can only save Dean by falling in love with him." Dean made a squeaking noise that Bobby thought should have come from a mouse instead of a huge hulking beast.

Bobby looked at them as though they were crazy. "Listen here, ya idjits. Even if you did get Castiel in here, the boy's as oblivious as they come. If your Beast there is as afraid of his emotions as he seems to be, you guys might be stuck here for another hundred years before anything happens between them."

Dean's hackles rose. "Hey! I'm not afraid of anything let alone girly things like emotions," he scoffed.

Bobby wasn't paying attention to him. He was thinking about the merits of Castiel being in an enchanted castle with a beast as his protector rather than him being on public display working on the farms in Sioux Falls. Surely, Lucifer wouldn't be able to find him here. Surely, he would be better off. Bobby cleared his throat. "If I were to do this whatever-it-is and get Castiel here, would you be able to do something for me in return?" he asked, speaking directly to Dean.

Dean's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he nodded. "Protect my boy. There are lotsa people who wouldn't mind getting their hands on an angel, even a half-blooded one."

Dean's face turned grave and he nodded again. "I would protect him with my life," Dean promised. Then his face scrunched up almost imperceptibly. "If necessary."

Bobby relaxed slightly. "Okay then. Whatever you need done, I'm in."

"You and Dean have to make a blood pact," Sam provided entering into nerd mode. "You see, when I was in the library—"

"Boy, I don't care about all that library mumbo-jumbo," Bobby interjected. "Just tell me what I gotta do."

Sam huffed. "Doesn't anyone have any appreciation for good research anymore?"

Gabriel spoke up at that. "No, babe, we don't. And I have to say, your research skills are the last thing I think about when you mention the library." He leered at Sam in a way that left little doubt as to what he meant.

Bobby shook his head. "Will you idjits just get to the point already?"

Sam had a look on his face that said he would be blushing if clocks _could_ blush, but he started explaining again. "There is this ritual. It's relatively simple, but the binding magic it invokes is really powerful stuff. Basically, you each have to speak your terms of the agreement and consent to the opposing terms. Then you need to make an offering of blood and unite yours with Dean's to seal the deal."

Bobby made a face. "Okay, let's get this over with." He moved to the edge of the bed and stood, not wanting to do something important like making a blood pact while lying down. He coughed and then opened his mouth to state his conditions for the bargain. "You will protect my son and you will not mistreat him while he is here." He shot Dean a glare that promised certain death if Castiel were to come to harm.

"I swear to protect Castiel and treat him with all of the respect he deserves," Dean promised. "In return, you will send Castiel to me in three days."

"Castiel will be here in three days. I swear it," Bobby agreed. He took a small knife from his pocket and flipped it open, grasping it with his left hand and cutting open his palm.

He looked up and saw that Dean had drawn a claw over the bottom of his own left paw. Bobby reached out and pushed their wounds together, mingling the blood and formalizing the promise. A rush of heat pulsed out from the place where their blood merged, accompanied by a single spark of light. The binding magic was complete.

..........................................................................................................................................................

Bobby left the next morning after breakfast. Dean had been kind enough to lend him his beloved horse, Impala, with a stern warning of, "That's my baby," and instructions to release her when he got where he was going. "She'll find her way back to me," Dean said. "Always does." Bobby figured he had a few hours until he made it back to Sioux Falls so he let his mind wander as he rode.

He thought about the decision he had just made and the impact it would have on his family. Castiel would be leaving and he wasn't sure how he should feel about that. On one hand, he was relieved that Castiel would be safe. On the other, that was his boy and he didn't want to let him out of his sight. Bobby sighed. _Too late now. I already made the deal._

He wondered what Castiel's mother would have thought about all of this. Not that she really had a right to have an opinion about his son. She had just left him with Bobby one day before flying back off to Heaven. It wasn't like he would ever regret raising Castiel. But still, for a girl that he hadn't seen for more than one night who turned out to be—of all things—an angel, she had sure dumped a load on him before turning the other feather and running away.

It was times like this he missed his wife, Karen—well, more than usual anyway. She would have known what to do and even if she hadn't she would have a least put a positive spin on the whole situation. Then again, if she had still been alive, Castiel never would have been born in the first place. There really was no point to this line of thinking, so Bobby made himself stop reflecting on it and continued with his journey.

..........................................................................................................................................................

Castiel returned home from his work in the fields earlier than usual that day. As a result, he was there when his father rode up to the house on an unfamiliar horse. Castiel's lips twitched into something resembling a smile and he went out to greet his father.

"Father, you are home," Castiel said as they approached one another. He looked at Bobby's face and his mouth turned down. "What is wrong?"

Bobby dismounted and faced Castiel. "Son, we need to talk. Where's your brother? I don't want to say it more than once."

Castiel's frown grew more pronounced. "Of course, Father. I will go and bring him back." He spread his wings and took flight without waiting for an answer.

As he flew, he wondered what his father would have to tell them. He flapped his wings harder so that he could get to Michael just that much faster. When he finally reached his brother, he paused long enough to tell him, "Father has returned and wishes to speak with us." Then, he gathered his shocked brother—who was admittedly quite a bit larger than himself—awkwardly into his arms and launched into the air. Michael let out a—manly—shout of fear and wrapped his arms tightly around Castiel's neck.

Castiel got them back to the house in record time and let Michael collapse on the ground as soon as he landed. Leaving his brother swearing up a storm at him from his supine position, he went into the house. As he was entering the door, however, he realized that the horse his father had been riding was nowhere to be seen. Things just kept getting stranger.

Inside the house, Bobby had grabbed a beer and sat down at the table in the kitchen. "I have returned with Michael," Castiel informed him. "What happened to your horse?"

His father didn't look at him as he replied, "Already sent her back home where she belongs." His lack of eye contact told Castiel that the subject was not going to be discussed at the moment, so he didn't say anything more and simply nodded.

Bobby raised his eyes from where he had been staring at the table in time to see Michael enter behind his brother, looking windswept and still cursing Castiel under his breath. "Sit down boys," he told them. "I got somethin' to tell you and I'm not sure how yer gonna take it. S'pose I'd better start at the beginnin'." He took a deep breath and looked directly at Castiel. "I met a few friends of yours last night."

Castiel sat up straighter in his seat. "You met Dean?"

"Yes, I did," Bobby confirmed. "And we made a deal. One that involved you."

Castiel inhaled sharply; he knew what this must mean. "Sam found a way to get me past the Barrier."

His father nodded somewhat reluctantly. "That he did." He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "We did some sort of blood magic or something. I promised to send you there in three days. This Sam thingy—clock, whatever—said that it would be enough to get you past the front gate."

Michael stood up and slammed a hand down on the table. "You are sending Castiel back to these people?" Michael's voice was incredulous. "How could you promise such a thing? And without even asking Castiel what he wanted?"

Bobby's temper flared and he stood as well. "Don't you take that tone with me, boy. The Dean Beast promised to protect Castiel and that's what I'm gonna let him do. He's in a much better position to do it than either one of us."

Michael opened his mouth to retort, but Castiel cut him off before he could. "I want to go," he said quietly. "Michael is right. It is my decision and I promised Dean that I would do whatever I had to in order to free him. I am going to do just that."

His brother looked at him as though he had lost his mind. "But Castiel—" he protested.

"It's too late anyway," his father said. "I already made the blood pact and it's binding. Castiel needs to be at the castle exactly three days from when Dean and I did the ritual. Since that occurred this morning at about two o'clock, you have less than three days."

"Very well, Father. I shall go and see that I have everything in order before my departure." Castiel's voice was still low, but both his brother and his father could hear the conviction in his tone. He nodded at them before leaving the house to settle his affairs.

When he got outside and spread his wings, he realized that they were a bit sore from carrying the extra weight of his brother. Not adverse to walking, he folded his wings back up and started off down the path to his neighbor's farm. While he walked, he lost himself in thoughts of what was to come. Truth be told, he was excited about the prospect of seeing Dean without the bars of the gate in between them. He looked forward to meeting Sam, Adam, and Gabriel—whom he had heard so much about but had never actually laid eyes on. The only reservation he had was the fact that he would have to leave his family behind, but Castiel thought that it would probably be all right either way. His brother and father had each had their chance to go out on their own; he had never been able to do that. Now it was his turn to exert his independence and he was going to use it to save Dean.

.........................................................................................................................................................

The three days passed much too quickly for Michael. His brother didn't seem all that affected by what was going to happen and Michael had the urge to grab him and shake some sense into him. He knew it was irrational but every instinct as a big brother told him to lock Castiel up and never let him leave. Michael was a soldier, however, and good soldiers did what their commanding officers said. So, when his father said that Castiel had to go, he did what any good soldier did and sucked it up.

That wasn't to say he didn't protest. He did. But, his father made a good point in saying that the bargain had already been made and there was no way to break the deal. Eventually, he stopped arguing and let it go.

On Castiel's final day with them, Michael took his brother aside and handed him his favorite sword. "If the things in that castle do anything to hurt you—anything at all—I want you to use that," he told Castiel. "Then, you pack up your stuff—no, on second thought, leave your stuff—and get yourself back here as fast as you can."

Castiel's face pulled up into a smile. "Do not worry, brother," he assured Michael. "Dean will not harm me. Besides, you could always come visit me. As far as I can tell, humans are able to get in and out of the castle with no trouble at all."

 _Somehow,_ Michael thought later that day as he watched Castiel fly away over the trees. _That might actually be a bit reassuring._

..........................................................................................................................................................

Dean sat in the front entrance of the castle on the night Cas was supposed to arrive. He wasn't nervous or anxious or any fucking nonsense like that. And there was no way in hell he was going to wait by the gate like some preteen girl going on her first date. So instead, he simply lurked—er, lounged—in the front hall. Dean had never noticed how little time he spent there until he realized that he had never counted the number of candles that lit the entranceway or turned over the cushions in the sitting room to check for loose change. Yeah, right.

So, maybe he was a little tense, he admitted to himself as he wore a trail into the floor with his pacing. Hell, how could he not be on edge? Cas was going to be there any time now.

He must have mumbled something to that effect out loud because a voice behind him responded to it. "You've been telling yourself that for the past five hours Dean," his little brother Adam said as he made his way into Dean's line of sight. "Why don't you just relax a bit? Pacing isn't going to get your angel here any faster."

"Easy for you to say," Dean grumbled.

Adam shot him a disbelieving look. "Oh, really?" he asked sarcastically. "Dean, the rest of us have just as much riding on this as you do. More even." He looked down at his body mournfully. "At least you got to keep your dick."

Dean choked a little on the laugh that wanted to force its way out of him, but couldn't resist a chance at getting the last word. "Why, so you could offer everybody some cream with their tea?"

"God, you are such a bastard!" Adam shouted as he hopped angrily back to the kitchen. "That's the last time I ever try to cheer you up."

 _Huh,_ Dean thought. _So that's what he'd been trying to do._

As he returned to his pacing, his contemplation on the number of steps it took to get from one side of the front hall to the other was interrupted by the sound of the front gate clanging open. Dean froze. This was it. Cas was here.

All of a sudden, the front doors crashed open and a rush of wind blew through them, extinguishing the candles in the room. Castiel stepped through the doors, a shower of sparks raining down over him. If he noticed them, he didn't seem to care. His wings snapped out from his body just as lightening lit up the sky behind him, making the wings little more than shadows to Dean's eyes. Then the candles relit themselves and everything was back to normal. Only it wasn't, because now there was Cas.


	5. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cause it's the heat of the moment
> 
> The heat of the moment
> 
> The heat of the moment showed in your eyes.
> 
> -"Heat of the Moment" Asia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of my reviewers and to my wonderful beta, Delu.

The first thing Sam noticed after Castiel passed through the Barrier was that Dean's angel had personal space issues. _No, that wasn't right,_ Sam corrected himself. _Dean's angel had personal space issues **with Dean**._ He didn't do it with anyone else—in fact, with most people he stood at a greater length than the average talking distance. Then, Dean would enter the room and Cas would insinuate himself into his space in less time than it took Sam to blink. The really weird part of it was that Dean—Mr. You have your bubble, I have mine—didn't say one word about it.

Watching his brother get used to human contact again was odd to say the least. For the last century and a half, Dean had been alone. Now, he and the angel were attached at the hip and—if Sam were being honest—it was sorta freaky.

There hadn't been many humans in the castle since the curse, but those who had been were too scared of Dean to even look at him. The animals that lived around the castle knew to steer clear of him because their senses told them he was dangerous. Castiel seemed to have—if anything—the opposite instinct. When Dean was in the room, the angel's eyes would focus only on him and Dean didn't even seem to notice. He would go about his business as though nothing unusual was happening. If ever Sam had doubted whether his brother would be able to fall for the angel, he didn't anymore.

Well, it seemed they wouldn't be cursed for too much longer. Gabriel hadn't been kidding about the… um… eyefucking.

While he didn't begrudge Dean his happiness, Sam had to admit that he was maybe just a little bit jealous. His brother and the angel seemed so happy and though they weren't romantically involved as of yet—well, consciously anyway—they carried on like an old married couple—what with the ease of touch and all that staring. He and Gabriel had been together for what seemed like forever and they still hadn't moved past the initial sex-crazed frenzy.

Sam was happy with Gabriel. He really was. He loved Gabriel—for all that he had never admitted it—and he accepted the fact that romance would never be their forte. Still, he couldn't keep himself from watching his brother's progressing relationship wistfully and wishing for something more.

..........................................................................................................................................................

Gabriel wasn't much of a romantic. He had a tendency to skip straight to sex and—when he couldn't do that—badger the object of his affection with innuendo. The problem with he and Sam's relationship wasn't the lack of sex—though that was an annoyance in and of itself. No, it was the fact that they had been together for so long and he had never—not even once—taken Sam on a date.

He felt bad about that—really, he did—but it wasn't as if either of them were girls. He figured Sam didn't care one way or another. Then, he noticed how his boyfriend watched as Dean and his angel sloshed their awkward brand of romance all over the place. Sam—it seemed—was even more of a girl than his brothers had always claimed he was.

He and Sam hadn't been together when they were human. Gabriel had been hired by John Winchester when he was eighteen and had been with them for the better part of fifteen years before Dean had been cursed. In that time, he and Sam hadn't shown more than a fleeting sexual interest in each other that never would have been acted upon. Post-curse, they had developed a relationship out of loneliness and as a necessary precaution against boredom-driven insanity. Over the near century and a half they had been together together, they had proven to be pretty good for each other and Gabriel found that he had actually gone and fallen in love with the big stupid coghead. Not that he had told Sam that, but maybe if they went on a date…

Gabriel smirked to himself and set about making his plans.

..........................................................................................................................................................

Lucifer was not in a very good mood. His forces had traveled all the way to Lawrence on the information that an angel lived there only to find that it was already gone when they marched into the city. After talking to the thing's neighbors, he learned that it had left with its 'father' and 'brother'. So far, he hadn't been able to pick up a trace on where it had gone, and that pissed him off.

Contrary to popular belief, Lucifer wasn't crazy. He simply had a very justified desire for revenge—in his mind at least. His wife Lilith had been murdered by a group of Hunters. Sure, she had been possessed by a demon at the time, and okay, maybe she had tried to kill him. That didn't mean that those asshole demon hunters needed to put her down like a rabid dog. And so, he had started waging his war, throwing his lot in with the monsters and demons, leading them across the country and killing all who stood in his way. It wasn't ideal—after all, supernatural creatures were so far beneath him that they almost couldn't even be considered living things at all—but, if he wanted to take his revenge, he wasn't above using them to suit his purposes. Since they seemed to like Hunters even less than he did, Lucifer found it very simple to manipulate them into doing what he wanted them to do.

Angels, on the other hand, were a completely different matter. Lucifer lumped them into the same category as all of the other supernatural dirt in the world, but he seemed to be the only one of that opinion. The rest of humanity _revered_ them as if they were gods and were not inclined to give up the whereabouts of those that were spending time in the mortal coil. Though he had managed to add some of the fallen to his ranks, the fully powered angels and the half-breeds remained ridiculously stubborn. As such, he had had to exterminate all of the ones he had managed to track down. He hoped that the one he was after now was either fallen or had some sense of self-preservation that had been lacking in the others. Otherwise, he was wasting his time and Lucifer _did not like_ wasted time.

"Sir," a voice interrupted his musing.

"What is it?" Lucifer snapped at his second—a demon named Ruby.

Ruby flinched a bit at his tone, but she didn't back down. "We've found the angel. No one seems to know his name, but we've been told that he and his family moved to a small town in Ilchester Forest."

A somewhat deranged grin spread itself over Lucifer's face. "Ruby, rally the troops. We're moving out tonight."

..........................................................................................................................................................

Gabriel crept along the corridor leading to he and Sam's bedroom, pausing every so often to listen for footsteps just in case, and humming a spy theme song under his breath in between stops. The next time he halted, he heard the telltale sounds of something walking and flattened himself to the wall just in time to see Anna flutter by. She didn't stop, but gave him a strange look as she passed him. Once she was gone, Gabriel peeled himself off of the wall and resumed his progress down the hall.

When he reached their room, he popped his head around the doorway and cursed under his breath as he spotted Sam sleeping in one corner of the room. _Oh well,_ he shrugged. _I'm too impatient to wait. I can be sneaky._ He began rummaging through their dresser and checking behind the frickin' huge mirror Sam insisted on having. He shuffled over to the bed and was bending down to check beneath it when Sam woke with a short yell.

Gabriel jerked up—task forgotten—and hopped over to his boyfriend. "Sam," he yelped. "What's wrong?" He panicked, checking Sam for injuries.

Sam panted a little bit and wrapped a hand around Gabriel. He sounded haunted when he spoke. "I had this dream where you killed Dean over and over and over again. I mean, you had him run over by a horse and you dropped a piano on him and you gave him food poisoning and every time it happened, I would wake up and there would be this song playing that kept repeating the words 'heat of the moment' and then Dean would die again." Sam's grip on Gabriel tightened.

Gabriel hedged, "I wouldn't do that." Sam glared at him. "Okay, well, if I did it would only be a joke."

"Don't even joke about that," Sam huffed. His hold loosened and turned into something more like an embrace as he relaxed. "So, what are you doing here? Weren't you tailing Dean and Castiel?"

"I was for a while," Gabriel admitted. "I got bored when they went to the library and Castiel started reading him _Romeo and Juliet_. And the love-struck fool was actually listening." He snorted.

"You didn't answer my question," Sam insisted. "You never come in here unless I drag you." His eyes narrowed. "What are you up to?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes and threw up his candlesticks. "Fine, fine, you caught me. I had nothing better to do and—since I figured you were girly enough to do shit like keep a diary—I decided to look for it." He smirked at Sam. "I'm sure it would be quite entertaining." He pitched his voice higher. " _Gabriel looked at me today. My heart started going pitter patter and I—_ "

"Gabriel!" Sam protested. "I do not sound like that. And I don't have a diary." He waved an arm over Gabriel. "See, no fingers. I can't write." Sam set Gabriel back on the ground and made a shooing motion. "Now, go away and let me sleep." Gabriel started to hop away, relieved that Sam wasn't too pissed at him. Still, he winced when Sam's voice followed him. "And don't get into any trouble while I'm not around."

 _Well that was a bit of a bust,_ Gabriel thought as he made his way out of the room. _At least, he didn't find out about the plan._

..........................................................................................................................................................

Dean wasn't much of a reader; Sam was the one who liked all that scholarly bullshit. So, when Cas said that he wanted to go to the library, Dean was a bit hesitant. He hadn't actually read a book since he had been cursed because his paws weren't well formed for turning pages. He didn't want to get in there and have Cas think that he was a complete idiot. He knew that Cas liked books, and so, he was willing to put his own dislike for them aside in the interest of their—cough, cough—relationship.

Dean had finally admitted—to himself, at least—that he had feelings for the angel. Not that he was gonna tell anyone about it, but he felt better after he had come to terms with it. And he knew that in order to continue—god forbid—wooing Castiel, he would need to take him to the library.

The look on Cas's face made it totally worth it. His expression brightened in complete happiness and he darted around the room from one bookshelf to the next as though he couldn't decide where to start, his wings quivering behind him with suppressed excitement. When he finally stopped long enough to take a breath, Cas looked over at Dean and gifted him with the most dopily adorable grin he had ever seen. It made Dean's stomach clench and his knees go a bit weak and all that sentimental shit. And really, it was that smile that made Dean come to the realization that maybe his feelings for Cas had blown right past the 'first man-crush' stage and well into full-on 'puppy love'. Oh shit, he was totally screwed.

Needless to say, after Cas asked him who his favorite author was, Dean didn't want to tell him that he didn't like to read. So, he lied and told Cas the only name he could think of off the top of his head.

"Shakespeare," Dean blurted out. _What the fuck?_ He thought. _I've never read Shakespeare in my life._

Cas looked at him blankly. "Shakespeare?" he questioned. "He doesn't seem like the type of writer you would like." He tilted his head and stared at Dean as though he were a very complicated puzzle with several missing pieces.

Dean couldn't help his need to fidget under that gaze. "Well," he started, then stopped. "Maybe," he tried again. He sighed. "Fine, I don't read Shakespeare. Actually, I don't read period. Didn't do it much before the curse. Haven't done it at all since." He inhaled deeply before saying, "I just didn't want you to think I was stupid is all." He could feel the heat in his cheeks and was once again grateful that Castiel couldn't see it.

Cas seemed bemused by this. "Dean," he said seriously. "I would not think this simply because we do not share the same hobbies. You are free to like anything you wish to like." Cas gave Dean a somewhat mischievous look. "Although, I do think I will have to punish you for lying to me." He went to one of the shelves and searched for a second before pulling a book down. He walked back over to Dean and sat down in one of the armchairs, his wings curling around him to accommodate his position. "Sit down, Dean." Cas motioned to the seat next to him with a wave of his wing.

"What are you—" Dean began. He was thoroughly confused and a little turned on by Cas's words. Hell, the guy was talking about punishment for fuck's sake and stuff like that—combined with the look Cas had been giving him—went straight to a man's dick.

"I am going to read to you, Dean," Cas informed him. "Now, sit down." He opened the book to the first page and stared at Dean patiently until he finally sat. "Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare," he announced. He turned to another page. "'Two houses both alike in dignity…'"

When he realized that Cas's voice got deeper while he was reading, Dean decided that maybe Shakespeare wasn't so bad after all.

..........................................................................................................................................................

Castiel had been reading for what felt like hours, but he couldn't help feeling that it was worth it. Dean had a look of rapt attention on his face and was leaning slightly toward him—for once initiating the breach of personal space rather than just accepting it. "'…For never was a story of more woe, than this of Juliet and her Romeo.'" He closed the book and looked up at Dean expectantly.

Dean blinked. "That was…" he trailed off. "Well, it wasn't bad for girly shit like Shakespeare," he grunted, seemingly embarrassed for actually liking it.

Castiel nodded. "I am glad you liked it Dean," he murmured, meeting Dean's eyes and holding his gaze.

The stare went on for what seemed like forever before Dean finally broke it. He looked down and scratched the back of his neck with one of his front paws. "So, Cas, are you… Are you happy here?" He swallowed nervously as he waited for the answer.

Castiel smiled softly at him. "Of course I am happy Dean," he assured him. "I do miss my father and my brother and the ability to fly freely, but I do not regret coming here. Although I do not know how I can help you break the curse, I am glad that I am here to at least try."

Dean looked pained by this. "I am so sorry, Cas," he said sincerely. "I wasn't even thinking when I asked you to come here. I didn't realize that you would fucking lose your ability to fly."

He looked so remorseful and miserable that Castiel felt the urge to wrap him up in his arms and wings until Dean was feeling better. Unused to physical affection, however, he wasn't entirely sure that was a good idea. So, he settled for resting a hand on Dean's arm. "Dean, as I told you, I am not—in any way—sorry to be here, so you should not be either." He ran his fingers through the fur on Dean's shoulder almost unconsciously as he spoke.

Dean didn't respond to his words but looked over at his hand in shock. Noticing this, Castiel moved his hand back hesitantly, only to have Dean close the distance between them by pushing his head into Castiel's hand. A deep noise came from his throat and Castiel could only barely make out the words, "Been so long since anyone touched me." When Castiel began to thread his fingers into Dean's hair and stroke the skin beneath it, the rumbling grew louder.

It took Castiel a few minutes to comprehend that Dean was doing a beastly approximation of purring. Once he had come to this realization, a warm feeling coursed through him and he redoubled his efforts to make Dean happy—scratching behind his ears and under his chin with his other hand. As he was petting Dean, Castiel paid attention to the fur under his fingers. It was softer than he had expected it to be and extremely thick. Reluctantly, Castiel pulled his hand away from Dean and then chuckled when he saw that he had caused Dean's hair to stick up into something resembling a Mohawk. Dean, of course, was looking completely and adorably confused by the whole matter.

"What're you laughin' at?" he asked sulkily.

Castiel barely managed to hold back another laugh as he gestured at the top of Dean's head. "Your hair—" He reach over and smoothed the fur back into place. "There," he said fondly, smiling shyly at Dean.

Dean stared at Castiel for a moment. He opened his mouth and then shut it again, appearing indecisive. Then, apparently having made up his mind, he asked quickly, "Angel, will you marry me?"

Castiel could feel the smile drop off of his face. He tilted his head quizzically and a frown tugged down the corners of his mouth. _Why is Dean asking me this?_ he thought. He searched mentally for an answer to this question but couldn't find one. Dean was still watching him and he couldn't seem to think through an appropriate response. "I am no angel," he finally said, before standing and rushing out of the library, trying to ignore the devastated look on Dean's face as he left.

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Bobby was having a pretty good day, all things considered. His boy had been gone for over a week now and he missed him, but the sun was shining and Castiel was safe so all was as it should be. He stood up from where he had been sitting at the table in the kitchen and walked outside, stretching his arms up over his head to get all of the kinks out of his back and neck. Suddenly, the sounds of men making their way through dense forests reached his ears and he turned, alarmed by the noise. Any of the locals would be able to move—if not soundlessly—much quieter than whatever idjits there were in there right now. Besides, if he wasn't mistaken, he could make out the sound of armor and horse hooves. Bobby had a sudden feeling of dread and he started running toward the farm where Michael was working just as the leader of the small army burst through the underbrush and into the clearing around his home.

Not wanting to lead them to Michael, he turned and went in another direction, but by that point, the first man had already spotted him and was chasing him down. Soon enough, he was surrounded on all sides by creatures and men in armor waving long swords at him. He stopped trying to escape and stood there quietly, glaring at them. One of the men dismounted and moved to stand before him, looking down his nose at Bobby as though he were something on the bottom of his shoe. _Well,_ Bobby thought. _This must be Lucifer. Knew he'd find us eventually._

"Where is the angel?" Lucifer sneered at him. "If you hand it over to me, my men will not harm you."

Bobby bristled a bit at the implication that his son was an 'it'. " _He_ isn't here," he said tersely. "I don't know where he is, so if ya don't mind gettin' offa my land—"

Lucifer cut him off with a snarl. "I have it on good information that he _is_ here." He advanced on Bobby with his sword drawn. "So are you going to tell me where he is, or will I have to start cutting off body parts?" Lucifer's mouth widened into a horrible-looking smirk.

Bobby was saved from answering by Michael as he came home from work. "What the—" Michael was pushing his way toward him. "Father, what's going on?"

Lucifer turned in Michael's direction when he heard his voice and Bobby saw him stiffen as his son pushed past the last few bodies separating them. "Well, well, well," Lucifer said scathingly. "If it isn't my _old friend_ Michael. Are you enjoying living the peasant life now that you lost your sword?" he asked sarcastically. "If you want to retrieve it, it's still stuck in my back."

"Lucifer," Michael said warily. "It is… good… to see that you are well. I did not think that we would see each other again after…" He trailed off in an attempt not to upset Lucifer any more than was necessary.

It didn't work. "After what?" Bobby could see the vein in his temple throbbing as he spoke. "Oh, you mean after you betrayed me?"

Michael sighed. "Lucifer, whatever happened in the past should stay in the past. Whatever grudge you have against me, leave my father out of it."

Lucifer grinned maniacally at him. "Oh, no, this isn't about you." He gestured to Bobby with his sword. "You, old man, tell your son why we are here," he commanded.

Bobby had heard the fear and anger in his son's voice and tried not to let the same show in his own as he answered. "These idjits're here lookin' for an angel," he sneered—as though the thought of an angel being there was completely idiotic.

Michael looked stricken. "An ang—"

Lucifer cut him off. "Yes, yes, an angel." He clapped a hand on Bobby's shoulder, ignoring him when he flinched. "You see, your father happens to know where it is, which leads me to believe that you must know as well." His face morphed from crazy to benevolent and it was then Bobby knew he was in the hands of a madman. The truly insane were the ones best at hiding it. "Tell you what I'm going to do. I'm a reasonable man and because of that, I will make you a little deal. Your father will stay with me for one week. In return for my hospitality, I expect you to bring me the angel at the end of that time." He steepled his hands and pursed his lips. "If, for any reason, you do not hold up your end of the bargain, I'm afraid that Daddy Dearest will end up the next plaything for my good friend, Alastair."

He snapped his fingers and a demon appeared at his side. "My lord, how can I help you?" he said in a high, nasally voice.

Lucifer put his other hand on Alastair's shoulder. Unlike Bobby, the demon didn't flinch. "You see, Alastair here is my resident torture master. He can get information out of anyone." He looked at Alastair fondly and gave Bobby's shoulder a shake. "Alastair, please take this man back to camp with you. He may be with us for a while."

Bobby struggled as the demon grabbed him and when he looked over at Michael, he saw that his son was being restrained by several of the creatures that had made up the circle. Unfortunately, their strength was no match for that of the supernatural entities that held them. When Bobby looked back once more, it was to see the devastation on his son's face as he watched his father being dragged away by a torture master. And that complete horror almost overwhelmed Bobby's dread for what awaited him in the next week—almost.


	6. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I turn my head
> 
> I can't shake the look you gave that I'm good as dead
> 
> 'Cause all those eyes are all it takes
> 
> And all I want is you.
> 
> -"Under Control" Parachute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to my wonderful beta, Delu, who had to put up with me while I was nitpicking every little detail in this chapter.

Castiel wasn't trying to avoid Dean. Unfortunately, _Dean_ appeared to be going out of his way to steer clear of _him_ and Castiel was somewhat startled when he realized that he missed him. He also found that he was feeling things that he had never felt before—mostly, guilt. Not only had he not helped to free anyone as of yet, he had also managed to completely alienate Dean—the only friend he had ever had. It wasn't important that Dean still hadn't told him how exactly he was supposed to save them. Likewise, it didn't matter that he was still utterly confused by Dean's seemingly impromptu marriage proposal. All Castiel could think about was the fact that he had only been there for two weeks and he had already messed everything up.

Deciding that he needed to fix things, he went to see Samuel. Well, actually, he stared at Samuel until the clock came to see him. Samuel finally pulled Castiel aside after an entire meal of the angel staring awkwardly at him while Dean tried to avoid, well, everybody. Samuel looked slightly amused and only a little unnerved as he cornered him.

"Castiel," he said, his lips quirking. "I got the feeling you wanted to talk to me?"

Castiel inclined his head. "Yes, I have a question and I did not wish to make anyone uncomfortable by asking at the table."

Samuel snorted. "You mean you didn't want to make _Dean_ uncomfortable since you obviously didn't care all that much about how comfortable _I_ would be with all that staring." At Castiel's confused head tilt, Samuel rolled his eyes. "Nevermind. Whaddya want Castiel?"

Castiel's face grew troubled. "I find myself somewhat perplexed. Perhaps you could offer me some insight." He scowled at the space next to Samuel's head as he pondered and ignored the clock's squirming. "Dean asked me to marry him. I have thought much on the subject and have been unable to find the purpose for such an action."

Samuel spluttered. "He asked you to—?" Castiel looked on, bemused, as Samuel doubled over, laughing hysterically. He was panting now and gasping between breaths, "He actually asked you?"

"I do not understand, Samuel," he said. His confused expression became more pronounced. "Is there a reason you are laughing?"

Samuel snickered again when he saw the look on Castiel's face but hastened to assure him, "It's nothing, nothing." He took a second to get his breathing back under control and muttered, "Good to see Dean still has his balls after all," in an undertone that the angel wasn't supposed to hear but did nonetheless. Castiel's head was tilted almost parallel to the floor by this point—betraying his intense bewilderment over the whole situation and causing Samuel to choke back the rest of his laughter and take pity on him.

He cleared his throat. "What has Dean told you?" Samuel asked him.

"Only that I can save him because I am an angel," Castiel replied.

Samuel sighed. "Of course he wouldn't tell you anything more than that," he huffed, shaking his head. "He's so caught up in trying to keep his man card, it's ridiculous. Basically, he's just too damned embarrassed to tell you that the only way to save us is for you to fall in love with him."

Castiel looked at Samuel blankly for a second. He supposed that he was a bit in shock. Of all the things he had imagined Samuel might tell him, this hadn't even crossed his mind. Love was another one of those emotions he had no familiarity with—at least not the type of love he would have for Dean. He was used to the love and devotion he felt for his father and Michael. Those came naturally to him. Amorous sentiments, it would seem, did not.

From a very young age, Castiel had been conscious of the fact that he was not human. As a result of this awareness, humans had always fascinated him. He had noticed in his study of them that while the physical element of humanity was quite easily explained, the emotional aspect was not. As such, he had read extensively on the subject in an attempt to understand them. As he had found out, it wasn't quite that simple. He couldn't just learn about such abstract concepts through his books and he wondered if he would be able to understand it in practice when he could not seem to grasp the theory of it.

Castiel shifted his focus back to Samuel, who had been waiting patiently for him to finish processing his thoughts. "Samuel, I do not know if I can do this," he said. Castiel could clearly hear the self-doubt and accusation in his own voice and hoped that Samuel could not. "I have always been somewhat removed from what emotions I _do_ feel and I have never felt this manner of love. I do not even know if I am capable of it." Castiel's face creased in distress. "What if I am unable to save him?" His eyes widened in agony. "I have to save him! I swore that I would."

"Woah, dude, calm down!" Samuel held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "In case you hadn't noticed, you're at least halfway there. I mean, the way you're acting right now, I'd say you're already in love with him." Castiel froze. _Was it possible?_ Samuel waved a hand in front of Castiel's face. "Are you all right, Castiel?"

"I am in love with Dean?" he gasped, ignoring Samuel's question. A warm feeling suffused his chest and his head filled with images. Dean's eyes peering over the window ledge at him. The hope on Dean's face when Castiel had promised to help him. Dean laughing as they talked through the gate. Dean listening attentively as Castiel read him _Romeo and Juliet_. Dean. Dean. _Dean._ The feelings swept through him and his face widened in a smile so full of joy and love that it could have been spotted from Heaven. "I never thought it was possible." His eyes narrowed on his companion in speculation. "Perhaps you are correct, Samuel."

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Gabriel looked around the corner, keeping below eye level in a true eavesdropper's fashion and attempting to tamp down his jealousy at the sight of _his Sam_ exchanging a large goofy smile with Dean's angel. That was _his_ large fucking goofy smile, _god damn it_.

Gabriel lost himself for a few moments in his plotting. _That's it,_ he thought. _I'll throw a big vat of whipped cream on Sam and then offer to lick it off. There is no clearer sign of ownership than that._ A self-satisfied smirk hovered on his lips as he backed away from his corner post to put his plan into action. He didn't realize that there was someone behind him until he bumped into him.

"Oof," he huffed as he landed on his gold plated ass. "What the fu—" He looked up and saw Castiel staring down at him with one of the many varieties of confused the angel seemed to wear at all times. Gabriel turned back to where _his Sam_ —and yes, the possessive pronoun was mandatory—and Castiel had been conversing mere seconds ago. "I thought you were supposed to be an angel not a creepy-ass ninja. Make some god damn noise when you walk," he snapped, more out of surprise than out of any real anger.

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed. "I am sorry that I startled you. I was curious," he said, his face betraying no such interest. _But hey,_ Gabriel thought. _I'm not exactly an expert in ANGEL BODY LANGUAGE 101._ "I have noticed that you recently began following Samuel around the castle and find myself somewhat perplexed. Why would you need to do this? Are you and he not—" He stopped to think for a second as though attempting to choose the correct expression. "—lovers?" he finished.

Gabriel's face twisted when he heard the word 'lovers'. Like he needed someone else to remind him of the fact that _his Sam_ was not in fact _his Sam_ yet. "No, we are not _lovers,_ " he sneered. "But he is _mine_ , so don't go getting any ideas. We've been together since way before you were born, bucko, and I'm not letting some Angel Boy swoop in and take him from me." He could feel his candles flare with the force of his anger, but didn't have the will to control it.

The angel's eyes widened. "I have no designs on Samuel," he said seriously, his eyes boring into Gabriel's in an attempt to assure him of his sincerity.

Gabriel's flames died down as his irritation cooled and he rolled his eyes. "Yeah, fine, whatever." He had to admit, he was a bit relieved though. Castiel studied Gabriel with his head canted to one side as though the candelabra were a puzzle he was having difficulty putting together. "What?" Gabriel snapped impatiently.

The feathery bastard just blinked at him. By the time he opened his mouth to speak, Gabriel could feel the wax bubbling on his forehead. "You wish to discover something about Samuel, to ask him a question. If this is the case, why must you follow him? Why not simply ask?"

Gabriel exploded. "Just because, god damn it! Our relationship just doesn't fucking work like that. I can't simply _ask_ Sam to go on a date with me. Not when I spent the last too god damn many years avoiding romantic crap because here I thought we were both men and I didn't need to be a total sap to win him over. Then you show up and lo and behold—what do you know—turns out Sam's got more in common with the fairer sex than just his hair." Gabriel's tone softened. "And I might actually want to give him all that sentimental shit after all." His eyes sharpened on the angel. "But I have to make it as fucking perfect as I can before I—"

Castiel stepped forward, his eyes wide and earnest. "If Samuel is in any way similar to Dean, then he will not care what it is you do for him. The only thing that will matter is that it is you doing it."

Gabriel stared after him in shock as the angel dipped his head in a farewell gesture and made his way down the corridor.

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Michael couldn't help but think about his confrontation with Lucifer as he rushed to find the godforsaken castle his brother was trapped in. He had forcibly pushed it aside in his mind as he planned the best possible way to get there and gathered what he would need for his trip. He knew the general direction in which Castiel had flown when he left, but even in a situation as stressful as the one he was in now, he wasn't stupid enough to just wander into uncharted forest. So he followed the main trail in that direction and kept an eye out for side trails leading to the castle. After all, there must have been one way back when and the trees and brush that had grown over it couldn't be nearly as large as those in the rest of the forest. When he finally set off, all he had to do was monitor his compass to make sure that he was still going in the same direction Castiel had, so naturally, his thoughts flipped back to the man he had once thought of as his best friend.

Lucifer hadn't always been a—well, a crazy bastard. Back when he was in the army, they had been as close as brothers. Lucifer was impulsive, arrogant, and selfish, but somehow, Michael couldn't seem to fault him for it since he was also charming and came across as a nice guy. He found himself looking after him as he would Castiel—not that his little brother had ever needed it, but still the sentiment was there. A few years saw Michael moving up in the ranks to become the leader of their regiment and Lucifer stood beside him as his trusted second. He had thought that nothing would ever come between them.

Then they were sent to foreign soil to fight a war the rest of the country didn't even know about.

By the end of their time there, Michael had killed many soldiers and while he wasn't exactly pleased with the number of souls on his conscience, he was at least able to placate himself with the notion that it was all for the sake of his duty. Moreover, he hadn't taken the lives of any innocents and that had to count for something. What bothered him the most, however, was Lucifer's lack of reaction to the amount of death that surrounded them. Taking lives didn't seem to faze him at all.

When orders finally came for them to pack up and go home, Michael was greatly relieved. He was tired of living the life of a soldier and was looking forward to seeing his family again. The command to release all prisoners of war was expected and anticipated, so when it finally arrived, Michael felt a weight lift from his shoulders, happy that these men would not be burdens on his soul. He never imagined that some of his troops might feel different.

When he went to free the prisoners, he found that they were already dead, murdered by Lucifer and a few others. He had fought with Lucifer that day, demanding that he answer for what he had done, but his former comrade refused to repent. He said that such filth did not deserve to live and that he had to do it. Even after Michael had argued that there had been orders to release them, Lucifer still persisted in his refusal. Incensed, Michael had cast Lucifer and his followers out and led the rest of his troops back home. They hadn't seen each other since.

Apparently, Lucifer was still shifting the blame and holding a grudge. That was fine; Michael could handle it. But now, Lucifer had involved his father and his brother in his convoluted hatred and that wasn't acceptable.

Michael checked his compass and walked a little faster.

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Dean was avoiding Cas. He was man enough to admit it. But what the fuck was he supposed to do? The angel had rejected his proposal flat out. He hadn't even thought about it first. And then he had run away, not even sparing Dean a second glance. So, yeah, Dean was sulking and he was only slightly ashamed to admit it. Sam had tried to talk to him about it the day after it happened, but seriously, he didn't want to talk to his brother about his frickin' love life. Not that he would ever admit that he was in love with the guy, not after being rejected like that.

Dean missed him, though, and he regretted opening his stupid mouth in the first place. He began to both hate and love the meals they shared because while he wanted to be around Cas, and he loved any excuse to be together, it was also so unbearably awkward that he almost couldn't stand it. The angel would sit there and stare at him, and he would sit there and struggle to keep himself from falling into the temptation to stare back, and Sam, Gabe, and Adam just tried to avoid looking at either of them. It was just so fucking awkward all around.

This routine had lasted for several days when something changed. Dean could feel it, even if he didn't see it. Cas wasn't looking at him. Dean's head jerked up at this realization and he found himself looking directly at his angel for the first time in days. The problem was that his angel was gazing at Sam. A sense of wrongness filled him and he lowered his eyes before anyone had a chance to notice that he was looking. His thoughts churned. Cas didn't look at Sam. It wasn't right. Cas didn't look at _anyone_ the way he looked at Dean. But Dean had fucked up and now his angel _was_ looking at Sam. Dean couldn't stand it.

When Sam and Cas left the dining room together, Dean growled, startling Adam who was the only one left at the table. "Dude, what the hell's been up with you lately?" Adam demanded. "You won't talk to us and you're terrifying the rest of the castle on purpose." He sighed when he saw the sulky look on Dean's face. "Did you have a fight with the angel or something?"

Dean's shoulders slumped. "Maybe," he huffed, his tone sullen. "I might have—" He swallowed, embarrassed. "—asked him to marry me."

Adam closed his eyes and let out a frustrated breath. "Dean," he said between gritted teeth. "I know that you've always been the pretty one in the family, but this time I really have to ask. Are you stupid? Because, even with all of your so-called experience, you still pull bone-head moves like this." Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Adam kept speaking, cutting him off. "Have you even told the angel that you have feelings for him, or hell, about what _he'll_ have to do to break the curse?" When Dean shook his head, Adam snapped at him. "You're doing this out of order, Dean. You don't ask the angel to fucking marry you before you at least assure him that you love him. And even if you didn't want to do that, you could tell him that it was necessary for our freedom. He seems like the self-sacrificing type, if you want him to martyr himself for you," he drawled sarcastically. "What you _don't_ do is ask him to marry you without giving him some kind of clue as to why. You probably confused the hell out of him by doing that."

Dean hung his head, knowing his brother was right. "When did you become the older brother?" He let a teasing grin tug at his lips for a moment before he sighed. "I s'pose I should go talk to Cas now, huh?"

Adam rolled his eyes. "I'd say." Then he hopped out the door leaving Dean to go work things out with his angel.

Dean knew that he needed to find Cas, but he had no fucking clue where to even begin searching. So when he left the dining area and saw him waiting outside, Dean was understandably relieved. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he met the angel's gaze with his own and allowed him to insinuate himself into Dean's space. For a moment, they just stared at each other until finally Dean couldn't take it anymore. He opened his mouth and got out, "Cas—", before noticing his brother and the candle-prick boyfriend watching them from several yards away. He pursed his lips and, reaching out to grab Cas's wrist, proceeded to drag his angel down the hall toward the library. Cas didn't protest this treatment so Dean barreled on, pointedly ignoring Sam's smirk as they passed.

They were silent as they traversed the distance between the dining hall and the library. When they finally reached it, Dean hustled the angel through the entrance and then closed it quickly. He leaned back against the door and let out a breath in an attempt to calm himself before they started their little talk. Dean didn't notice that he was still holding Cas's arm until he felt warm fingers stroke the fur on his wrist. He looked down at the place where fingertips disappeared into pelt for a second before lifting his gaze to meet the angel's eyes.

"Dean," Cas said, his voice low and soft. "There is something important I need to tell you."

"Yeah, me too, Cas." Dean swallowed nervously and tried to gather his courage before rushing on, "I wanted to apologize." The angel opened his mouth to speak but Dean cut him off. "No, no, just let me get this out. I shouldn't've asked you to marry me. It was a mistake and I'm really sorry, Cas." He felt Cas's fingers stop stroking him at the same time he saw his angel's face freeze. "Cas?" he asked, worriedly. "What's—?" Dean thought he saw a flash of pain in the angel's eyes and trailed off, completely bewildered.

The emotion was gone before Dean could comment on it and Cas was smiling softly at him. There was something wrong with his eyes, but Dean couldn't put his finger on what it was. "There is nothing for you to apologize for. It is not blame that falls on you, Dean; it is fate." Okay, now he was even more confused. Just what exactly was the angel talking about? "Samuel told me about the provisions of your curse," Cas informed him.

It took a second for the implications of that statement to sink in. He went very still before he exploded. "What?" Dean growled, his teeth bared. Cas didn't look impressed by this display of ferocity, simply gazing at him intently as was usual. "Why the fuck would he do a thing like that? He had no right!" He shook his head, agitated by what he saw as a betrayal.

"I asked him to tell me, Dean," Cas stated quietly. "I could not understand why you would ask me such a question. Samuel was kind enough to explain it to me." He caught Dean's eyes with his own and reached a hand out to tangle his fingers back into the fur on Dean's shoulder. "Do not worry, Dean. We will figure out a way to get you out of the more—undesirable—particulars of your curse."

Dean knew he was in deep shit. How was he supposed to explain to Cas that he hadn't asked him to marry him because of the curse? In fact, at this point, he could give a fuck about the curse. Even if Cas weren't an angel and he had the most beautiful god damned woman in the world on her knees before him offering free blowjobs, Dean wouldn't hesitate. He would choose Cas every time. And it was in that moment, he knew that he must be in love with the angel. Hell, the guy had him turning down oral sex from well-endowed women—even _if_ it was all in his head.

Even so, he wasn't sure he was confident enough to actually admit any of this out loud. Not without knowing how Cas felt about him first. He had already suffered through one rejection and he wasn't sure he was ready to go through another.

Dean fidgeted a bit as he thought all of this through, but realizing that he was evading the angel's gaze again, finally looked back up into Cas's eyes. "Does this mean I can stop avoiding you now?" He attempted to force his face into a grin, but it probably came out looking more like a grimace.

Cas tipped his head slightly to the side. He ignored Dean's teasing and said with utmost sincerity, "Dean, I have no wish for you to stay away from me." He stepped forward, invading Dean's personal space even more thoroughly and causing Dean to gulp when he felt the angel's breath brush his face. "I believe that we should spend even more time together. How will we get to know each other well enough to break the curse if we do not do so?"

Dean was sure that Cas had no idea what he was implying with that statement, but even so, that didn't stop his heart from doubling in speed and his breath from going ragged. "Of course, Cas," he finally got out while trying to avoid tripping over his own tongue. "Whatever you say."

Cas looked somewhat pleased and surprised by Dean's agreement and as he found himself asking the angel if he would read some more Shakespeare, Dean couldn't help thinking that he was totally screwed.

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Castiel's mind was racing as he read to Dean from _A Midsummer Night's Dream_. How was he supposed to confess his feelings when Dean considered proposing to him a 'mistake'? It seemed that love involved more emotions than just love itself; there was also pain. Castiel had felt physical pain before—cramping muscles after a hard day of work and the quickly healing paper cuts from his reading days—but, he had been shocked to feel something strikingly similar earlier when Dean had apologized to him. On top of that, he had also felt a strong sense of ownership. He wanted Dean to _belong_ to him. This proprietary sensation had intensified when he had felt Dean's fur running through his fingers and he had no idea what to make of it. Castiel had not a clue as to what he was supposed to do with all of these new and fairly terrifying emotions.

So he did the only thing he could do. He pushed his feelings aside for the moment and continued reading.

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Adam was feeling a bit left out these days. It was weird in the castle now that his brothers both had boyfriends and, no, it wasn't because he was the only remaining non-gay Winchester. Well, okay, that was a bit confusing for him. He couldn't stop himself from wondering if, somewhere down the road, he would discover his own predilection for men. Hell, if it ran so deeply in the Winchester blood that both of his brothers had succumbed to it, well, he supposed he might end up with a guy too. He was actually surprisingly okay with that. _What the hell?_ he thought. _I've been alone so long; it'd be nice to have **anyone** , male or female._

But really, the gay thing wasn't his problem. It was just that, well, he missed his brothers. Sam and Dean both seemed to have disappeared from his life simultaneously. Although he was used to Sam spending a lot of time with Gabriel, the candle-man had pretty much made himself a part of the family over the last century, so it really wasn't a big deal. Lately, though, it seemed like there was something hinky with their relationship, so neither one of them had been up for spending time with the annoying little brother. And Dean— hell, Dean and his angel were so consumed by each other that Adam didn't think they even noticed there were other people in the room sometimes.

So, it was actually just coincidence that they were all gathered in the dining room one evening—the only place they were ever really all together anymore—when the sound of the gate crashing open could be heard clearly from outside. Adam and his—extended—family looked at each other for a moment before they all rushed down to the front entranceway. The doors swung open and a man stepped through with calm, yet hurried, determined steps. Adam heard Castiel's shocked intake of breath, but he was too busy concentrating on the stranger to take much notice of it.

The man was tall and broad shouldered and, though he couldn't be older than twenty-five, he carried himself with all of the self-assurance of a commanding officer. He was so obviously military that even his dark brown hair, for all that it had grown out, still echoed the short, rigid style it had once sported. His blue eyes sparkled intelligently from beneath a strong, dark brow and the sharp nose and cheekbones were somehow made all the more masculine by the soft lips they framed. All in all, a very good looking man—quite intriguing. Now the only question was what the hell was a guy like that doing here?

 _Oh fuck,_ he thought in self-disgust. _I'm turning into one of Sam's stupid, girly romance novels._

The question—which had been forgotten in Adam's abject horror at the thought that yes, he really was more like his brother than he would have ever wished to be—was answered almost immediately when Castiel hurried forward and pulled the man into a hug. Adam felt Dean stiffen at his side as the man returned the embrace before pulling away, leaving his hands on the angel's shoulders. "Castiel," he said. "It is good to see you."

"Michael, what are you doing here?" the angel replied. Adam was aware of the tension leave his brother when he heard the words and could only wonder at it.

The man— _Michael,_ he thought—became, if possible, even more stern in appearance and Adam could tell that whatever news he had for Castiel wouldn't be good. "Father was taken," he said gravely. "By Lucifer."


	7. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one else will ever know how to love me
> 
> Baby I am broken
> 
> Deep inside, I believe that you belong to me
> 
> But this remains unspoken
> 
> -"Love You to Death" Stefy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! I was very excited when I finished this chapter. I hope you all like it. By the way, my reviewer lillyinthemoonlight thinks I need more reviews. C'mon guys, what do you say? I would hate to disappoint my fans. Pretty please, with whipped cream and hot slash pairings on top? Well, now that the shameless begging is done, I'd like to thank my beta Delu for putting up with me and my overabundance of hyphens. You can all thank her later. :D Hi, everyone! I was very excited when I finished this chapter. I hope you all like it. By the way, my reviewer lillyinthemoonlight thinks I need more reviews. C'mon guys, what do you say? I would hate to disappoint my fans. Pretty please, with whipped cream and hot slash pairings on top? Well, now that the shameless begging is done, I'd like to thank my beta Delu for putting up with me and my overabundance of hyphens. You can all thank her later. :D

Oddly enough, the first thing Adam thought after Michael made his announcement wasn't, _Oh shit, the angel's father is in trouble._ It wasn't even, _Who the fuck is Lucifer?_ No, much to his chagrin, the first thing to cross his mind was, _Thank God, they're brothers._ It took a moment for him to even realize where his head was, then, _Seriously? We've got all this crap going on and I'm going to have a gay crisis now?_

"Who is Lucifer?" Sam asked, cutting Adam's musings short. "And why would he take your father?"

Michael looked away from Castiel to stare at Sam, eyes raking over his tall frame before focusing in on the candlestick perched on his shoulder. He gave them an odd look but shook his head and directed his attention back to Sam's face. When he spoke, his voice took on the tone of a military commander briefing his troops. "Lucifer is the leader of an army of supernatural creatures ranging from gods to rugarus and everything in between."

Dean cut in, "Rugaru? That sounds made up. Is that made up?"

Michael ignored the interruption and continued. "They have been traveling steadily in this direction, killing indiscriminately. Three days ago, he came for Castiel and in his absence took our father as collateral. I have four days to bring my brother to him or—" Michael swallowed and struggled to continue in his emotionless tone of voice. "—he will do something horrible to Father." He turned away from Sam to look pensively at Dean for a moment before carrying on. "Lucifer recently began recruiting angels to his cause," he explained. "And he desperately wants Castiel. If my brother refuses to join him, he _will_ kill him and my father as well." His gaze seemed to grow more intense as he focused on Dean. _That look must run in the family,_ Adam thought. "My father told me that you were to be trusted with my brother's protection. It would be wise of you to keep to your word, Beast."

Adam didn't have to look to know that his brother's hackles were rising. He saw the angel open his mouth, his brow creased in what appeared to be anger. Not wanting the situation to escalate, Adam spoke before anyone else had a chance to. "Well, it's all well and good that you want to come here and insult my brother's integrity—and trust me, it's easy to do; he's not exactly a pillar of morality. However, might I suggest that I take you to a room before you collapse in the middle of your argument? In my experience, that tends to undermine your position."

Michael turned his surprised eyes on him and Adam dragged his gaze over the man's body—which served the dual purpose of making his point and allowing him to check the guy out at this same time. For all that his military bearing was covering it up, he looked exhausted. He didn't have wings to expedite his journey like Dean's angel did and from what Adam knew of Castiel's family, they probably didn't own a horse, so he could have been walking for days to get here. And it wasn't like there were any sign posts or maps to give direction. Any that might have existed had probably crumbled into dust years ago. It was a wonder Michael had made it there at all.

Michael raised an eyebrow at him. "And you are?" he prompted.

"Adam," he supplied as he hopped forward. "The hairy idiot next to me is my older brother and as such it is my deepest desire to clean up after each and every mess he gets himself into," he snarked. As he came to a stop in front of Michael, he added sardonically, "I live to serve."

"Hey, wait a sec—" Dean's affronted voice cut in right on cue before pausing. With a disbelieving snort, he changed his tack. "Unless you're talking about your god-awful skills in tea service, you don't do a damn thing to serve anyone."

Adam turned completely around to glare at him. "You know, contrary to popular belief, sarcasm is not a Dean Winchester copyright." He spun back around. "C'mon Michael. It'll be easier to think of a plan tomorrow when you aren't entirely off your rocker from lack of sleep," he said before making his way down the hall, not stopping to make sure the man was behind him. He was almost positive that Michael would follow, and if he didn't—well, if he wanted to go into a self-induced coma by forcing himself, that was his business.

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Michael felt completely out of his element. He was being berated by a teacup of all things—and such a forceful one at that. Michael found himself having no idea how to react, so when the kid had bounded off, he took a second to throw Castiel a look over his shoulder that clearly said, _What have you gotten us into?,_ beforerushing off to catch up to Adam. When he did, he noticed that the teacup was lagging behind—having to hop at least four times to match one of Michael's strides. Checking to make sure they weren't within view of the others, he leaned down to scoop Adam up in one of his hands.

"What the—?" Adam gasped. Michael held him up to get a closer look at his face. The teacup looked angry and he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of such a fierce expression on such an innocuous-looking piece of chinaware. "What the fuck do you think you're laughing at? Put me down! Why the hell are you carrying me?"

Michael schooled his features. "I am sorry for laughing. This entire situation seems rather ridiculous to me," he admitted, running his other hand through his hair. "The exhaustion doesn't help. I suppose I am—what did you call it—'off my rocker' and unable to curb my reactions."

Adam glared at him for a moment before dipping forward a bit in the facsimile of a nod. "Okay, geez, I get it. If I hadn't spent the last hundred and fifty years as a fucking teacup, I guess it would seem pretty bizarre to me too." He was quiet for a second as though contemplating his state as a cursed object. He shook himself a bit to dislodge his unpleasant thoughts, then asked, "So can you put me down now?"

"I believe it would be faster if I carried you," Michael replied, tightening his grip as, in reaction to his words, Adam attempted to throw himself out of his hand. He gaped at the teacup and questioned incredulously, "What are you doing? If you fall from this height, you could break." He panicked internally at the thought, though whether this was a result of Castiel's anticipated reaction upon hearing that Michael had broken his future brother-in-law or because of some other reason he didn't have time to reflect on, Michael wasn't sure.

Adam stopped struggling and shot him a confused look upon seeing the alarm on Michael's face. "I don't believe for a second that you actually care about whether I end up in a million pieces, but hey, I'll put your non-worries to rest anyway. I can't die. Not while I'm still a teacup at least. There have been several mishaps over the years, but every time I just sorta pass out for a bit, then when I wake up I'm whole again. I think the only one of us who could actually get hurt for real is Dean. He is still flesh and blood after all." He paused for a moment with a grimace at the thought of his brother coming to harm, then continued, "Good, now that we've got that settled, you can put me down. I'm not a damn baby."

"Of course not," Michael agreed. "I didn't mean to insinuate that you were. I am in great need of sleep, however, and I feel that it would be in my best interest for us to get wherever we are going quickly so that I may be up and ready to plan a rescue for my father as soon as possible. The most expedient way to do that is to carry you." Having made his point, he started walking again.

Adam grumbled as he settled down in Michael's grasp. "All right, fine, we'll do it your way," he gave in, then stiffened. "But _don't_ ever mention this to my brothers or Gabriel, got it? I'd never live it down." He wiggled a bit and scowled at his captor. "Lighten up, dude. Loosen your grip a bit. I'm not going anywhere." He looked forward again and, noticing where they were, began giving direction. "Go down that corridor right there. Yeah, that one," he confirmed when Michael pointed. "My room's the last room on the right."

Michael was confused. "If I'm staying in your room, where are you sleeping?"

Adam snorted. "Where do you think?" he asked, asked sarcastically. When Michael didn't answer, he sighed and responded, "I'm a teacup. I sleep in the kitchen." He eyed the door of the room they were approaching mournfully. "I can't even reach my bed or any of my things. And how unpractical is it for a teacup to sleep in a bed anyway?" he scoffed. "In any case, the castle staff doesn't keep any of the beds made up but my brothers' and mine so it's not like we have a guest room available immediately and the others actually use their bedrooms. By process of elimination, that leaves my room. Help yourself to it."

Michael opened the door and stepped through it forgetting for a second that he needed to put Adam down before the teacup rudely reminded him. "'Night Michael!" he called as he hopped down the hall. "Sweet dreams and all that shit."

"Goodnight Adam," he replied automatically. He stood there watching Adam proceed down the hall for a second before closing the door. He slowly removed his shoes and stripped down to his under things—folding and stacking his clothing neatly like the properly trained soldier he was—before pulling back the covers and climbing into bed.

 _Adam,_ he mused wearily, moments before sleep claimed him. _I wonder if he was as weird a human as he is a teacup._

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With all of the excitement in the castle the night before, Gabriel wasn't sure how his plan was going to work out. He had planned on luring his boyfriend to their bedroom where a spread of Sam's favorite foods would be laid out on a table with flowers—if he could find any—and an extra tall stool for him so that he would actually be at eyelevel for once. Then, while Sam was completely overwhelmed by his debonair charm and stunning good looks—no one else could hold a candle to him in Sam's eyes, well, at least he hoped so—Gabriel would finally after all these years tell him those three words considered to be magic by teenage girls, guys looking to score, and apparently overly large, yet surprisingly delicate boyfriends everywhere. Sam would, of course, swoop Gabriel up into his arms and say the words back and then there would be kissing and groping and more non-sex and they would live happily ever after. It would be perfect.

It had to happen like that. Gabriel wouldn't let it play out any other way. He seriously thought that if it didn't get done today, he might actually lose his nerve and not say it at all.

 _No,_ he thought determinedly. _Nobody is going to ruin this for me. The angel's brother won't be awake for several more hours. The food's already made and I spotted some flowers outside, so all I have to do is grab them and set the table and get Sam here and it'll be all set. Sam will accept this date and let me say what I have to say if I have to tie him down and gag him to do it._ He pondered for a second before hurrying to their dresser to rummage through it. _Are there any socks left in here from when we were human?_

An hour later, Gabriel had everything ready. Now all he had to do was find Sam. He had it all flawlessly planned out. When he found Sam he would drip candle wax from there to the bedroom and then attract his boyfriend's attention by knocking over a suit of armor or something equally noisy. Sam would follow the trail and when he arrived back at their room, Gabriel would say, "How do you feel about having lunch by candlelight?" His boyfriend would be completely overwhelmed and yada, yada, yada, they live happily ever after.

He figured the best place to begin his search would be the library. For the most part, when he wasn't with Gabriel, Sam could be found holed up with a rather large and often incredibly boring book. Although, lately he had taken to bringing his unbearably dry tomes elsewhere because, surprisingly enough, Dean and his angel were spending large amounts of time in the clock's usual haunt. Still, Gabriel felt that the library was the most logical place to start.

Sticking his head through a small crack in the door, he saw that Dean and Castiel were talking quietly in one corner but there was no sign of Sam. Gabriel closed the door, sure that the lovebirds were still in their own little world, and checked the dining room. Sam wasn't there. He checked the kitchen. No Sam. Ditto the first floor sitting room, the tower, and the courtyard outside. Gabriel huffed impatiently and feeling somewhat dejected, went back to their bedroom. _Well, where the fuck is he?_

He threw the door open rather violently and stalked through it, mumbling under his breath about no-good cogheads who didn't have the sense to be where they were supposed to be. He stopped short when he spotted Sam standing next to the table examining the meal and holding the coil of rope and the old pair of underwear Gabriel had found in his boyfriend's drawer loosely in his hands. When he heard the crash of the door hitting the wall, Sam turned around and gave him a look that clearly said, _What the hell, man?_

Gabriel tried to remember what he was supposed to say, but his mind chose that moment to take a break from thinking anything other than, _Oh shit._

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Michael wasn't sure what to do when he woke up. He had no idea how he was supposed to navigate the castle. Even if they had taken the time to give him the grand tour last night, he hadn't exactly been at his best and probably wouldn't have remembered most of it anyway. Luckily for him, Adam knocked on his door shortly after he had risen and dressed. He opened the door and, seeing who it was, immediately bent over to lift the teacup to his eyelevel.

Adam made a face but didn't protest this treatment. "Good morning, Michael." He looked past Michael to where the midday sun was shining through the windows and corrected, "Well, I suppose technically it's afternoon, but whatever. You want breakfast before we go find my brothers or would you rather go straight to the unfulfilling and emotionally distressing part of our day?" Michael ignored Adam's sarcasm and opened his mouth to tell him to lead the way to Sam and Dean, but before he could get a word in, his stomach complained loudly. Adam laughed and continued on as though Michael had actually given him an answer. "Breakfast it is then. C'mon, let's go." He hooked Michael's thumb with his handle and tugged in an attempt to get the man to move.

Michael found dining with Adam to be… an experience, to say the least. The little teacup wasn't exactly effusive—unless he was angry, Michael noted—and since he wasn't the most talkative person himself, the conversation was a bit stunted at first. It mostly consisted of Adam begrudgingly asking him for help cutting his food into bite-size pieces—his brothers usually did it for him—and them chewing silently while trying not to look at one another.

Adam finished eating first and after a short, awkward pause, started asking questions. "So, you were a soldier right?" When Michael nodded, he continued, "Do you know anything about this crazy general that kidnapped your father? He sounds like a total asshole."

Michael stiffened and his face went blank to cover the strong reaction he had to Adam's words. The emotions brought on by the insult to Lucifer were somewhat of a surprise to him. Although his former brother-in-arms had done many horrible things, it seemed that his protective instinct for the man was still intact despite the years that had passed since their falling out. He found himself wanting to defend Lucifer to Adam, even though he knew that the teacup's description of 'asshole' didn't do Lucifer justice in the least. He looked up and saw that Adam was still waiting for a response.

Struggling to preserve his emotionless façade, he said, "He served under me several years ago, but we had irreconcilable differences. He always had a tendency to blame others for his own actions and I'm afraid that he has held a grudge for an occurrence he considers to be my fault. My relation to Castiel has only made Lucifer want him more and although my father is a useful tool he can use to get my brother to serve him, Lucifer most likely wouldn't have taken him if I weren't involved." His lips twisted bitterly at the thought. Before, he had been so overcome with a combination of worry and the rush to get here that this notion hadn't occurred to him. Now that he had a chance to slow down and think again, he realized that it really was his fault.

"He's going to take everyone I love, just to spite me," Michael stated quietly and with complete certainty. Something akin to horror was growing inside him. This was bad. This was very, very bad. He could handle wars, violence, death, but usually, it wasn't in any way connected to his family. What was he supposed to do if he lost them? They were all he had. He let out a shaky breath, trying to resume control over his emotions, and passed a hand over his face in an unconscious gesture he used in times of stress.

Seconds passed then he felt something cold and smooth touch the back of his hand. He looked down and saw that Adam had somehow made his way across the table without Michael any the wiser. _How did he do that?_ Michael wondered. His time as a soldier had drilled into him a certain awareness of his surroundings. The fact that a teacup—who couldn't move without making loud clacking noises—had been able to get so close without his notice made him rather uneasy. He met Adam's eyes and saw the desire to comfort and a curious heat that he couldn't—wouldn't, didn't want to—name. In spite of—or perhaps, because of—the nameless emotion, he somehow felt himself relax.

A moment later, Michael realized that he and Adam were still touching. He debated with himself for a moment before pulling his hand away slowly and, deciding to completely ignore whatever had just happened between them, suggested they attempt to find their brothers.

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Gabriel had a tendency to lean toward the dramatic—anger, happiness, sadness, whatever—when he felt it he made sure everyone knew about it. At the moment, however, Sam could tell that whatever emotion his lover was feeling, he was trying to cover it up and he wasn't doing a very good job of it. Gabriel was nervous with little wax sweat drops trailing down his face—a face that pretty much screamed, _Uh-oh, busted._ Sam wasn't sure what he had been up to, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Whenever Gabriel was scheming, it usually ended in pain or humiliation for the rest of them. Like the time he had instigated a fight between Sam and Dean by doing things each was sure would only be done by the other, like messing with Impala or drawing lewd pictures in Sam's current book. They were on the outs for a week before Adam finally put everything into perspective by telling them that Gabriel was tricking them.

Whatever he had done this time had to have been really bad. The only time Gabriel was ever nervous was when Sam banished him to the sitting room for the night and even then, it was only after he was back in Sam's arms that he would ever admit to it. To have it happening before Sam had even said a word—well, this apology lunch must be making up for something huge.

"Gabriel," he said, trying to keep his tone even. "What did you do?"

The question wasn't condemning and Sam didn't mean it to be accusatory, but Gabriel appeared to take it that way. He was immediately defensive, crossing his candlesticks in front of his chest. "I didn't do anything," he spat. "What? A guy can't prepare a meal for his boyfriend without an ulterior motive?" He glared at Sam as though daring him to agree.

Sam quickly backtracked. "No, no, it's just, well, you don't. Ever. So I thought…" He trailed off.

Gabriel looked hurt. "What, so I can't plan a date for us unless I want to _apologize_ to you?"

Sam stared at Gabriel, completely stunned. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally found his words. "A date," he breathed. A silly, happy smile stretched across his face. "You wanted us to have a date? Oh, Gabriel, I—" He brought his hands up to reach for his boyfriend and remembered the rope and underwear he was holding. His brow creased slightly but he was still smiling like a fool. "What were these for then?"

Gabriel grinned back at him sheepishly, but there was hope in his eyes. "Well, those were just in case you said no. I was gonna tie you up and force you to sit through it." He waggled his eyebrows in the usual fashion. "I've always wanted to try bondage. This wasn't _exactly_ what I had in mind but hey, I'm _flexible_."

"And the underwear?" Sam asked, confused.

"Oh, those were to gag you with," Gabriel said. "Not exactly ideal, but once we get out of here we can invest in more… professional… equipment." He gave Sam a lewd once over then paused, looking torn for a moment, before sobering up. "About the date," he continued seriously. "There was something I wanted to tell you and—"

Gabriel's words were cut off when Dean burst into the room. "Cas's brother is finally awake. Let's get a move on. Cas is really worried about his father and I don't like it." He was gone as quickly as he had come, yelling behind him as he rushed back to his angel, "We're in the library. Hurry the fuck up!"

Sam looked over at the meal Gabriel had set out for them and then back into his lover's eyes. "Gabriel, I'm sorry, but we really have to go help them. Bobby's running out of time." Sam turned away from Gabriel's frustrated face and made his way to the door. "Are you coming or—"

"I love you!" Gabriel said suddenly. Sam froze and then swiveled in place and was back over to his boyfriend faster than he had thought it possible for him to move. He leaned over and picked Gabriel up.

"Say it again," he commanded, catching his lover's gaze with his own and holding it. Gabriel was the one who seemed shocked now and Sam had to prompt him. "Say it again," he repeated. .

Gabriel licked his lips and looked back at him anxiously. "I love you, Sam."

Sam didn't answer right away, but in between kisses, he managed to get out, "I love you, too."

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Dean was getting impatient. Where the hell were Sam and his drip-stick boyfriend? He had gone to get them half an hour ago, for fuck's sake. Didn't they have any sensitivity? They were leaving him _alone._ With his angel and the man who might or might not be his future brother-in-law. Well, Adam was there too, but in Dean's opinion teabrain didn't count. From what Dean was seeing, his little brother had gone and joined the other side, even going so far as to _lean against Michael's arm_ as he sat on the table next to it. Why the hell were they being so affectionate after one fucking day? Damn it all! He needed a drink.

Still he couldn't help but smirk when Sam and Gabriel wandered in looking equal parts dazed and flustered, having obviously just been making out. Upon closer inspection, he noticed smudges of Gabriel's wax on Sam's face, which was disturbing considering it looked kinda like—okay, ew, that was just gross. Shaking his head slightly and ignoring Cas's questioning look, Dean forcefully pushed all thoughts of Sam and Gabriel together out of his mind and did what he usually did when he didn't know what to do.

"Well, now that the lovebirds have decided to grace us with their presence, can we move this shit along?" he demanded sarcastically. He couldn't help but notice that Gabriel's wax started dripping slightly just as Sam's second hand started doing laps around his face at double time. They looked over at one another and exchanged dopey smiles. _What the—_ he thought, then decided, _I really don't want to know._ "Michael," he said as he pointedly moved his gaze to Cas's brother. "What's the plan?"

They listened attentively as Michael outlined his plan to save Bobby and defeat that son of a bitch, Lucifer. As far as Dean could tell, it was a good idea. Not foolproof, but, hell, nothing in their lives had ever been that easy.

A few hours later, they had finished arguing the logistics, thank God, and Dean was getting hungry. He stood up and arched his back to stretch out the kinks. "Hey, Cas, can we finish that thing you were reading me after we eat dinner? I'm starving!" He gave Cas a big toothy grin and was gratified when the angel reciprocated.

"Of course, Dean," he agreed and moved to walk beside Dean as he headed for the door. "What are we having for dinner tonight?"

Dean was talking excitedly about the bacon cheeseburgers that they would be serving that night when he heard Michael call his name. "Dean, may I speak with you for a moment?" he asked. For all that his words were polite, Dean could hear the iron will behind them and realized that this wasn't a request; it was an order.

Dean nodded after a slight hesitation and said, "Cas, you guys can go down to the dining room. We'll be there in a minute." He turned and made his way back over to his angel's brother as everyone else filed out of the room. He couldn't help but feel slightly apprehensive. Just being in the same room as Michael made him nervous. Although he would never admit it, Michael had the right to judge him as Cas's potential future mate and Dean was scared shitless of the very real possibility—in his mind at least—that Michael might try to separate him from Cas when all of this Lucifer business was taken care of.

Michael stared at him in contemplative silence for a second, and then his face softened to some extent as he spoke. "I have noticed that my brother seems to be very happy here. I don't think I have ever seen him smile so openly or so often. For that, I believe I have you to thank." Dean was stunned. He nodded in acknowledgement, but for once was unable to speak. Michael continued, "I do have to ask you something. I believe it is my brotherly duty to do so." The man straightened ever so slightly and caught Dean's eyes in a gaze that was impossible to look away from. "What are your intentions towards my brother?"

After a few more moments of surprised silence, Dean's tongue seemed to remember how to work. He licked his lips before parting them to speak. "I want to marry him," he stated, trying to project a degree of calm he didn't feel. "With your blessing, of course," he added hurriedly.

Michael was quiet for a time before he nodded. "You may marry my brother, if—" He stopped as though wondering what to say, but almost immediately seemed to find the words. "Do you love Castiel?" Dean didn't hesitate, nodding almost before Michael had finished speaking. The man looked at him approvingly. "Very well, then, you have my blessing."

Dean didn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.

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Adam watched the next morning from one of the windows as Michael opened the gate and disappeared into the forest. Though he wasn't stupid enough to show it in front of his brothers, he was really worried about what would happen when Michael found Lucifer. The man was crazy, or so he'd been told. Adam dwelled on horrible visions of bloody swords and decapitated heads for a moment before he shook himself and attempted to think rationally. _Fact:_ Michael knew what he was doing. _Fact:_ Michael knew Lucifer better than anyone else did. _Fact—well, okay, uncertain truth:_ Michael had probably been in more dangerous situations before. _Oh, geez, I'm acting like a soldier's wife waiting for her husband to come home. God damn it, Adam, snap out of it._

Since he was being honest with himself (for the moment, anyway) Adam would admit that he was attracted to Michael. Sure, nothing would ever come of it, but still, it was another fact to add to his list. He was certain that this worry or whatever it was,—completely uncharacteristic of his usual 'I couldn't give a fuck' attitude, must stem from that. Wherever it came from, he was having a hard time getting rid of it.

He looked out over the forest one more time before hopping off the windowsill, intent on finding one of his brothers to distract him.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I found a way to get lost in you
> 
> Let me inside; let me get close to you
> 
> Change your mind; I'll get lost if you want me to
> 
> Somehow I found a way to get lost in you
> 
> -"Lost in You" Three Days Grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to let you guys know ahead of time that I know there is a discrepancy with the ages of Dean, Sam, and Adam in my fic. I made Adam four years younger than Sam rather than seven. I did this because I knew what ages I wanted everyone else and I didn't want a huge age gap between he and Michael. I know, technically Adam is a hundred and fifty years older than Michael, but still.
> 
> Oh, and thank you to my marvelous beta, Delu. Not only did she edit this for your reading pleasure, but she also gave me a lovely pair of slash goggles for my birthday. Literally.

Lucifer could be patient when he needed to be, but his followers were not so virtuous. It had been five days since he had taken Michael's father and while Lucifer was content to wait for Michael to come crawling back, dragging his freak of a brother with him, one demon in particular was not satisfied with the delay. Alistair had come to him at least once each day to request permission to torture his human charge. Each and every time he did so, Lucifer had told him in no uncertain terms that if his torture master were to so much as point one of his instruments in the man's direction, Alistair would find himself at the other end of the knife. Lucifer wouldn't hesitate to hand the demon over to his own students, most of whom he had tortured at some point and probably wouldn't pass up a chance to return the favor.

No, he wasn't going to let Alistair sink his claws into Michael's father. The man was too important at this point to end up dead because his blood-thirsty underlings got carried away. Lucifer needed him for leverage or all of his carefully laid plans would fall apart.

Michael finally showed up late on the fifth day, sans the all import angel commodity he had been sent out to find. And after all of the effort he had expended to keep the man's father safe, too. So, Lucifer felt that his slight loss of control was perfectly reasonable under the circumstances. His first reaction was a holy fury that would have terrified all who beheld it—had he allowed anyone to see it, that is—followed by a calm that was just as frightening in its promise of retribution. Michael wasn't following Lucifer's plan and he was going to suffer for it.

For now, at least, he would attempt to act diplomatic. There would be no way to extract the information from the man if Lucifer went into a rage and killed him. "Michael," he acknowledged as Ruby pushed the former soldier in front of him. "Ruby, send for Alistair and tell him to bring the human." She bowed her head and back away to comply with his request. As soon as she was out of sight, Lucifer shot a private grin at Michael, one that he knew had always gotten him out of trouble when they had been friends. "I never get tired of that," he admitted. "The bowing and the sucking up and the attempts to meet my every whim. The power…" He drew in a deep breath through his nose as though he could smell it in the air around them. "It's intoxicating. I find it impossible to understand how you could throw this away. There was a time several years ago when those of us in the garrison—myself included, I must confess—would have done anything we possibly could simply to please you." His face twisted bitterly at the awareness that he was once that weak. "I cannot comprehend it."

A commotion at the entrance to his quarters—the former occupants and their grubby little miniatures had been chased out by his subordinates to make way for his arrival—derailed him from that train of thought and his gaze left Michael's for the moment to watch as the man's father was dragged in. He was gagged and his arms were tied behind his back at an angle that looked quite painful, but he wasn't bleeding. Lucifer was somewhat surprised and gratified when he saw this. It appeared that Alistair had been heeding his orders, even if he was being spectacularly annoying at the same time, and he was pleased that his inferiors had shown their guest the proper hospitality.

Once both father and son were in place before him, he turned to the younger of the two and affected a judgmental tone. "So, Michael, now that your father has arrived, would you care to explain why you feel that your brother's life is more important than his?"

A surprised look crossed Michael's face briefly, but an instant later, he was covering it up with his usual bland expression. Lucifer allowed himself a moment of malicious self-satisfaction for making his former friend lose some of that fabled self-control. "I would not presume to impose more importance on the life of one of my family members over the other. If I had in fact decided that my brother was of greater significance, I would not have come back at all. I would have left my father to his fate and stayed away so that you would not have a chance to use me against Castiel. As it is, I _have_ returned to inform you that my brother has somehow gotten himself caught in a trap." Lucifer leaned forward in a silent request for more information. "There was some kind of curse laid around the ruins of a castle in Ilchester Forest. It was set specifically for an angel and as such, we can get to him, but he cannot leave the castle grounds. As this is the case, I will lead you to him instead." Michael stepped closer to his father as he continued. "The only thing I would ask of you is that you release my father and let us both live in peace once you have what you want."

Lucifer leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he thought over what the man had just told him. Finally he looked up and his hands came together in slowly building applause. "Oh, bravo, Michael!" he cried mockingly. "That was a brilliant performance." His eyes glittered with crazy laughter as he surveyed the confused expressions on the faces of his former friend and said friend's father.

"Lucifer," Michael said seriously. "I am telling you the truth. My brother is trapped and—"

"Oh, I have no doubt about that, _friend,_ " Lucifer sneered. "However, I find your indifference to the matter troubling, to say the least. The Michael I knew would not have even dreamed of letting me take his brother. Not without putting up some sort of a fight." He saw that Michael's face was carefully blank and knew that he was right. "You are going to lead me into a trap, aren't you, Michael? And you think that I would be stupid enough to walk into it unknowingly?" He smirked down at the man, whose expression had hardened as Lucifer spoke. "Tell you what, I'll bite. You lead me into this little trap of yours and we'll see which can hold up better: my army of supernatural beings or whatever pile of peasants you managed to scrap up. I hope their lives are worth it."

Lucifer didn't bother to hide his grin as he motioned for Michael and his father to be taken away. He would have the angel for his own and everyone knew it. _Just look at my track record,_ Lucifer thought smugly. He had been leading his own forces and conquering city after city while the other man had been hiding away in the woods like the coward he was.

Michael should have chosen between his father and brother when he had the chance. Once Lucifer found the winged freak, he would keep the three of them alive long enough to watch him use the angel for any manner of horrifying things and then he would kill them all.

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Even if he didn't look it, Castiel was worried. The upcoming battle weighed on his mind and he wasn't sure what to do about it. Everyone had a part to play in the fight against Lucifer—everyone except for him, that is. Days ago, when they had been formulating their plan, it had seemed like the best course of action. Out of the six of them, he and Gabriel were the only ones without any previous fighting experience and even the candlestick was more useful due to his inability to die while cursed. Besides, as Michael had been quick to point out, Castiel was the one Lucifer wanted and therefore should be kept as far from the battle as possible. Problem was, the angel _wanted_ to be a part of the fight. He refused to let the people he cared about, the man he loved, go up against the devil without him.

"Screw that!" Dean exclaimed loudly when Castiel brought these concerns to him. They were alone at the breakfast table for once and the angel was going to take advantage of that fact. "S'always good to know how to protect yourself and, no offense to Mike, but he seems to think of you like the damsel in a damn fairytale or something. I s'pose it's the big brother's right to think like that—if I had my way, Sammy would have 'princess' stamped on that abnormally large forehead of his—but it tends to cloud our judgment a bit." He looked Castiel up and down as though sizing him up before a huge grin overtook his face. "Angels are supposed to be the warriors of God, right? Wings must have some perks—well, besides the obvious one, of course. Train you up a bit and you'll be kicking ass in no time." He reached out and brushed his knuckles across the angel's right wing, his fingers curled under to protect the feathers from the sharp claws at their tips. Neither of them breathed for a moment, caught up in the emotions the simple touch evoked. Then, Dean pulled away and with a shaky breath, said softly, "I don't want you fighting either, Cas, but if you have to, I'd at least feel better about it if you were able to protect yourself."

"Dean…" Castiel's voice caught in his throat. Was this…? Could Dean actually feel the same way that he did?

"Eugh," a voice interrupted, causing both Dean and Castiel to turn toward it. Gabriel was the one who had spoken, but Sam and Adam were there too—both looking at the candelabra as though they wanted to kill him.

"Gabriel!" Sam scolded. "Do you _want_ to have sex with me sometime this century? 'Cause if you do, you have a piss poor way of showing it." Gabriel opened his mouth to speak, but Sam's voice rose to talk over him. Sexual frustration colored his tone and it was apparent to anyone who was listening where this was coming from. "In case you hadn't noticed, sex requires sex organs, which require humanity, which _we don't have!_ Think about that the next time you feel like interrupting Dean and Castiel while they're eyefucking or whatever it is they do." Sam stopped abruptly as he realized what he had just said and his eyes moved from his lover, who was staring at him with slack-jawed astonishment, to his brother.

Castiel's own mortification was all-consuming, but when Sam turned, he couldn't help but want to see Dean's expression as well. How was he reacting to all of this? And did Sam's words actually mean what they implied? Were he and Dean really… _eyefucking?_ His gaze finally found Dean and saw that his face was completely blank. _What did that mean?_ Castiel wondered.

Dean calmly faced the angel. "We are going to ignore them," he said decisively. He reached out and grabbed Castiel's arm. As he dragged the winged man towards the door, Dean asked, "Hey, Cas, you ever use a bow and arrow?"

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Gabriel heard the door slam shut behind Dean and the angel, but his eyes were still fixated on Sam. Hot damn, he was so fucking horny right now! And, God damn it, that meant that as much as he hated to admit it, Sam was right. He really did need to start thinking before he opened his mouth. If he kept interrupting the emotionally stunted couple right when they might actually be making progress, his poor Sammy would remain a virgin forever.

"Gabriel, what sick fantasy world is your twisted mind living in?" Sam asked, his expression still warring between embarrassment for what he had said and his frustration—sexual and otherwise—with the candlestick. Gabriel was nonplussed. He looked at Adam, trying to figure out what he had missed, only to see the teacup slowly backing away from them, dismay clearly written on his face. He turned back to Sam and gave him a 'What the fuck are you talking about?' look. His boyfriend rolled his eyes. "I'm not a virgin, Gabriel. Hell, I was twenty-two when we were cursed. I had girlfriends; you even met some of them. Did you really think that we never did _anything_?"

Gabriel's brain was processing what Sam was saying, but it wasn't doing it very fast. As a result, his first thought was, _Huh, I didn't realize I was speaking out loud._ Then, the full force of the words hit him. He searched for something to say and finally blurted out, "But the first time we…" He couldn't finish that thought in his usual manner. Sam was the only one who could shock the pervert out of him. He tried again, attempting to make his voice sound indignant rather than wounded. "You said, and I quote, 'Gabriel, I've never done this before'. And you're so damn innocent all the time. What the hell was I supposed to think?"

Sam's posture turned defensive and he huffed, "What I meant was, 'Gabriel, I've never done this before _with a guy._ ' Seriously, Gabriel, have you really believed that this whole time?" Something dawned on him and he gasped, "Is that why you made us wait so long to…?"

"Yes, okay?" Gabriel snapped. "I didn't think you would be comfortable with that level of intimacy right away. Especially when we couldn't actually…" He trailed off, uncertain. Was it possible that Sam actually liked girls better? Would he leave Gabriel once they returned to being human? "You know what, forget about it. None of this shit will be important once we're human again anyway."

Much to Gabriel's chagrin, Sam had gotten very good at reading his expressions over the years. Although self-doubt didn't make an appearance very often, he apparently knew what it looked like because he leaned down and swept the candelabra up into his arms. "Oh, Gabriel, don't think like that," he pleaded. "You know I love it when you're inside of me."

Gabriel felt the corners of his mouth lift a bit and he was about to tell Sam that he loved those private moments too—those times when they could just be together without the rest of the world interfering, but before he could, a cracking noise came from the dining room doors. The pair turned their heads and were somewhat shocked by the source of the disturbance.

It was Adam. He was throwing himself against the door, trying to get out of the room and failing because he had no arms to open them with. Gabriel could hear him muttering faintly, "…gonna kill Dean…leaving me in here with those…don't want to hear that shit…brother's private life should _stay_ private…so gross…" Sam moved to let him out before the teacup ended up shattering himself. As he hopped away, he yelled back to them, "I'm gonna have to wash my brain out with scalding hot water and a shit ton of bleach. I fucking hate you guys."

Sam sighed. "I suppose we should probably go find Dean and Castiel. If Dean's going to be teaching the angel how to fight, we should probably practice a bit too." He set the candlestick on his shoulder and made his way into the hallway.

Before he had gone more than a few steps, Gabriel spoke up in a small voice so unlike his normal boisterous one that it shocked Sam almost as much as the question itself did. "Sam, d'you think… Could you maybe, put me inside you? Just for a little while?" _Where the fuck is this coming from?_ Gabriel thought frantically. "Y'know what, Sam? Never mind, stupid question." He looked anywhere but Sam's eyes.

His boyfriend didn't speak for a moment, but then, he was lifting Gabriel off of his shoulder and opening himself up. The candlestick sighed with contentment as he settled in next to Sam's pendulum—the piece of him that was as close to a heart as one could find in a clock. It was so comfortable, so warm, and so surprisingly non-sexual in its intimacy. _It doesn't get any better than this._

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When Sam and Gabriel finally caught up to them, Dean had the angel throwing rocks at a target while airborne. Sam pulled the door to his chest open and, taking the hint, Gabriel clambered up onto his shoulder before anyone had a chance to notice where he had just been. The clock closed himself back up, already missing the warmth his lover provided, and moved to stand next to Dean. His brother looked away from the angel long enough to send Sam a scowl before his attention was drawn back up to the skies. He didn't see Adam, so he guessed that his little brother was off sulking somewhere. Sam and Gabriel would have to apologize to him later. While their conversation in the dining hall hadn't actually been explicit, Sam realized that it had sounded that way to Adam and he knew from firsthand experience that anything was considered 'too much information' when it came to your brother's sex life.

Dean yelled something up to Castiel, jerking Sam out of his thoughts. He looked up to see the angel descending, his wings spread wide to lend balance as he landed in front of them. "Great job, Cas!" Dean exclaimed exuberantly. "You've got really good aim and you're stronger than you look." He grinned at the angel and Sam wasn't as surprised as he should have been that Castiel smiled tentatively back at Dean.

"Thank you, Dean," the angel said, quietly pleased by the praise.

Sam waited for one of them to speak, but they just stood there staring at each other for so long that Sam became uncomfortable and shifted slightly on his base. The movement, as insignificant as it was, seemed to jolt them out of their mutual fascination with one another. Since he had already distracted them, however unintentionally, Sam cleared his throat and asked, "So what happened to the bow and arrow?"

Dean glared at him and didn't respond. Castiel looked back and forth between them before deciding to speak. "Dean took it away from me. He said to…" The angel hesitated momentarily and then continued uncertainly, "'Leave it to the fucking cupids.'"

The phrasing—so essentially Dean—and Castiel's deadpan tone made Sam choke on a laugh. Dean gave him a look that said he knew his brother was amused but was graciously going to ignore it, then focused back on the angel. "You did a great job with the rocks, Cas. You don't need a stupid bow and arrow," he assured him, resting a paw on the winged man's shoulder for a second. Dean looked up, saw Sam staring at him, and glowered. "What are you guys doing down here anyway?" he demanded.

Sam gulped and glanced at Gabriel. By the look on his face, his boyfriend could tell just as well as Sam could that Dean was still pissed about what had happened at breakfast. "We just thought that if you were going to teach Castiel to fight, we might as well come down here and train as well. I can still hold a sword and Gabriel…" He looked over at the candlestick on his shoulder. "Well, Gabriel probably can't do much of anything," he admitted.

Gabriel looked affronted. "I'll have you know that, while I may not have hands, I am still dangerous." He hopped down to the ground and fiddled with something for a moment before turning to face them. He brandished a candlestick at them, a sharp sewing needle protruding from the wax. "En garde!" he exclaimed, and moved to poke Sam with his weapon. Gabriel must have seen the look on Sam's face though—the one that said, _You won't be sleeping inside of me if you follow through with that_ —and abruptly changed course to stab Dean instead.

"Ow!" Dean yelped, rubbing at his forearm. "What the fuck was that for?"

"Ha! I win!" Gabriel shouted in return. He seemed to perceive Dean's murderous intent and backed away hastily. "Magnanimous victor that I am, I shall bow out gracefully." He made a short little bow and then started hopping away at top speed. "I will accept your praise and congratulations later."

Sam shook his head and watched his brother chase his boyfriend around the corner of the castle. He looked at Castiel, grinned, and said, "Well one thing's for sure. With Gabriel around, you guys won't need to adopt."

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God damn it, he hated his brothers. Sam wasn't usually that bad—make no mistake though, Gabriel sure as hell made up for that—but Dean had always had a habit of broadcasting his escapades. The episode this morning hadn't been the worst by far that Adam had heard about his eldest brother's habits, but hearing about Sam as well—and from his own mouth this time, instead of from Gabriel, who had a tendency to embellish—was just… Hell, he didn't know what it was, but it grossed him out. Someday, when he had his own sex life, he would get them back for that.

Adam did the teacup approximation of stalking as he went down the halls that led to the tallest tower. Michael had predicted—based on travel time and other factors—that the most probable day for the upcoming battle would be tomorrow, give or take a day, and had advised that they post a lookout. After being traumatized by Sam and Gabriel, he had decided to forgo breakfast and take first watch for Lucifer and company. When he arrived in the tower room, he heaved a sigh and hopped up onto the windowsill, then proceeded to stare dejectedly out at the span of forest surrounding the Winchester land.

Adam wasn't sulking. Sure, some of his behavior shared characteristics with sulking, but he wasn't a kid anymore, so of course what he was doing wasn't even in the same category. He let his mind wander back to what had happened earlier and how his brothers had completely forgotten that he was even in the room. Being a teacup, and not a particularly ornate one at that, Adam was used to being over-looked. Even before they had been cursed, he had never really felt that he fit in with his siblings, especially Dean. Not only was there an eight year age gap between them, but he was also highly aware of the fact that he was illegitimate. They had never given any indication that this affected how they felt about him, but Adam knew that Dean was very sensitive about his mother. The few times that he spoke of her, the reverence in his voice… Well, Adam couldn't help feeling that he resented their father for even daring to look at a woman who wasn't Mary Winchester. That sense of not belonging had faded after the curse—being stuck in a castle for over a century had brought them much closer together—but he still wasn't a driving force in his brothers' lives. Sam had Gabriel and now Dean had Castiel and, well, he was lonely.

That's why it had been so nice to have Michael around, if only for one day. Even though he was a teacup, a teenager, male—all things that said neither of them should be interested—the man had paid attention to him, had listened when he spoke. And that, more than any physical attraction the teacup might feel for him, made Adam want to be with him.

 _Fuck,_ he groaned. They would be going into battle, most likely in the next twenty-four hours, and here he was trying to justify… what? What exactly was he trying to say, that he was in love with the man? His thoughts ground to a halt. _Love. No fucking way I…_

Adam forced himself to calm down and think reasonably. It really wasn't likely that he was in love with Michael. He had only met the man once and it wasn't like they had spent a great amount of time together, not enough to form a relationship around anyway. However, if he was being honest with himself, he _could_ see the potential for their current affinity to turn into something more in the future. For all that Michael was a giant stick in the mud with no detectable sense of humor—that might have been the situation though—Adam found him strangely intriguing. He _wanted_ to get to know him better. Throw in the sexual tension he was feeling… Shit, he was screwed. God damned teenage hormones.

Adam shook himself. Now wasn't the time to think about this. He focused back on the trees in the distance, scanning for movement. One moment of distraction could allow the enemy through their gates with no warning. He needed to pay attention, and not just because he didn't want to dwell on his recently discovered passion for a certain male form. He had to be vigilant. All of their lives may depend on it.

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Dean was going to try again. Sam's comments from earlier had given him a sense of urgency. He needed to tell Cas how he felt on his own terms or someone else was going to do it for him and Dean really didn't want that to happen. He just needed to calm down, play it cool, and ask the fucking question. _Right,_ he scoffed. _Easier said than done._

He looked over at Cas as they walked toward the castle from the training grounds. His angel was really happy right now, Dean could tell. He might not be smiling, but his eyes were shining brightly. Dean's praise had replaced Cas's earlier melancholy with something that seemed to be partly pride, partly some other emotion Dean couldn't name.

And he was _happy_ that Cas was happy. It wasn't just Dean's fear of rejection talking when he said that he didn't want to ruin whatever it was they had by asking the angel to marry him again. But still, a part of him was scared of that possibility. Dean had no way of knowing whether or not Cas returned his feelings and that terrified him. He was going to do it anyway though, because he could die tomorrow and while he wouldn't regret dying to protect his angel, he _would_ regret it if he never told said angel that he had been serious about that marriage proposal.

With that thought in mind, Dean cleared his throat to get Cas's attention. "Hey, Cas, you remember when I asked you to marry me?" Some of the light faded from the angel's eyes and he nodded. Dean swallowed hard when he saw that he had tainted Cas's happiness, but he continued on, hoping that what he had to say would be able to make up for it. "Well, I just wanted you to know that I still want to marry you." He glanced up at the other man and saw that his face was frozen in confusion. "You know, because you're an angel, yeah, but also…"

Cas cut him off before he could finish. "I am no angel, Dean," he said firmly. "I doubt very much that marrying you will break your curse." When he saw Dean's devastated look, the angel backtracked. "Dean, tomorrow is going to be horrible enough as it is without us being upset with one another. Please do not be angry with me for refusing to bow to your wishes on this matter."

Dean didn't know what to do. He hadn't even been able to tell Cas his feelings before the angel shot him down. Outwardly, he let a false grin stretch across his face, while inside he was crumbling away with desolation and hopelessness. "Of course, Cas. You're my best friend. I couldn't stay mad at you." The angel was staring at him in a strange way, emotions swirling in the depths of his eyes, but he didn't say anything. "So, yeah, you really did great today with the rocks and all…"

Cas let Dean babble on for a while longer before doing something that was completely shocking. His right wing stretched out and brushed along Dean's back in a silent gesture of comfort and support. Dean went stiff, in awe at the feeling of Cas's feathers gently mingling with his fur, and his gaze jerked up to meet Castiel's. "Cas…" he murmured. The angel didn't answer, just smiled and entered the castle.

Dean felt a thrill of hope surge through him. Maybe he still had a chance.

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Michael tensed when he spotted the castle through the trees ahead. He hoped that its occupants were ready for them. It had taken Lucifer and his men two days to navigate through Ilchester Forest to reach this very spot. Michael tugged at his tightly bound wrists and sighed. This might dampen his ability to fight just a bit, but he had warned the others that Lucifer might bind him and so they knew to cut him free as soon as they were able. He had no doubt in his mind that Dean and Sam at least would find their way to him eventually. Castiel would most probably be sequestered away inside the castle somewhere and the spunky little candlestick could hold his own. The only one Michael was really worried about was Adam. What could a teacup do in all of the madness that would overwhelm them once the battle started?

He hadn't been able to stop thinking about the teacup since he had left and Michael found that very strange. Nobody had ever occupied his thoughts the way this cursed teenager did. _And at the most inappropriate times too,_ he thought wryly as he came back to himself.

They were at the entrance now. Lucifer grabbed him by his bound arms and shoved him through, the gates opening with a resounding crash as he fell through them. His startled yell rang out in the silence and the creatures behind Lucifer responded to it with a battle cry before charging in.

Lucifer yanked Michael to his feet as his men hurried forward in a chaotic rush. "This should be one for the history books, eh, old friend?"


	9. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I held you tight to me
> 
> You slipped away
> 
> You promised to return to me
> 
> And I believed
> 
> -"The Promise" Within Temptation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say about this one. The epic battle begins. Thank you to my beta, Delu.

On the day Lucifer was supposed to arrive, everyone gathered in the dining hall. Dean and Castiel were off to one side, completely lost in each other as usual, and so Sam figured that it fell to him to rally their troops and give instruction for the upcoming battle. He stepped to the front of the room and cleared his throat. "Right then…" He fidgeted for a moment as all eyes fell on him. Sam felt Gabriel pull his way up to his shoulder and relaxed slightly. His back straightened and he went on with renewed confidence. "As you all know the castle will most likely be under siege soon. We all need to come together and protect Castiel."

One of the feather dusters scoffed. "And why exactly should we do that?"

Sam groaned as he recognized the voice. All of the feather dusters were annoying—even Anna occasionally, although for the most part she wasn't that bad—but this particular one was ten times as irritating and arrogant as the rest of them. "Zachariah," Sam ground out through gritted teeth. "Need I remind you that not only are you a servant of this household, but also that unless you wish to remain so indefinitely, someone has to break the curse? I, for one, do not wish to be forced to so much as breathe the same air as you for longer than necessary, so I'd prefer to save this angel. That way we don't have to spend the next century and a half looking for another one." Sam loomed over the feather duster and didn't feel an ounce of pity when Zachariah cowered a bit before rushing out of the room, leaving a trail of molted feathers behind him. _Good riddance to bad rubbish,_ Sam thought.

He turned back to the rest of his audience and said, "Now, if anyone else has any objections to make, feel free to follow Zachariah out. If not, I'll finish telling you the rest of the plan." Sam waited for a second to give those who wished to leave the chance to do so and then continued, "Good. So, after much discussion, we have decided that those of us that appear to be objects," _Pretty much all of them,_ Sam thought with a mental eye roll, "should wait in the front entrance. Our enemy has no knowledge of us and we should be able to take them by surprise." He took a deep breath and Gabriel stroked the back of his head with one candlestick. "Castiel will be retrieving his father and his brother from Lucifer's army and Dean… Well, Dean will be doing his own thing. Be sure to stay out of their way."

Sam looked over at his brother and the angel and noticed with astonishment that Castiel had his wings up, completely surrounding Dean with them. It was a little known fact that Dean didn't like dark, enclosed spaces—a side effect of the time that he had been buried alive on one of his cases. That his brother was allowing Castiel to enclose him in his wings was proof enough to Sam that the angel was good for Dean. _It will all be worth it in the end._

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Today was the day. Castiel and the other castle residents—yes, even "those feathered fuckers", as Dean had called them—were all gathered in the dining hall preparing for Lucifer's arrival. Dean was helping him pack rocks into two small satchels—two were essential to maintain the balance that flying required—so that he wouldn't have to land more frequently than necessary to collect more. Sam was giving a rousing speech, Gabriel perched on his shoulder, but neither Dean nor Castiel were paying him any attention. They shared a glance as their hands met and Castiel felt his own tremble with both anxiety and longing. Dean turned his paw over and caught the angel's hand.

"Cas," he said gently. "It'll be all right. You'll make it through this. We won't let Lucifer take you."

Castiel shook his head slightly. "I am not worried for myself," he told Dean fervently. "I am worried about you. I am worried about Michael." He looked off into the distance as though he could see through the stone and mortar to the forest around them, where the enemy waited. Then he seemed to come back to himself and turned to Dean. "He won't want to kill me, not until I refuse to serve him anyway, but he will not hesitate to kill you." His wings moved in agitation, but he somehow couldn't seem to stop them. He finally gave up and his shoulders slumped forward dejectedly. "It terrifies me," he admitted.

Dean's claws moved to soothe his shuddering wings. Overtaken by his feelings for the man, Castiel abandoned his usual restraint and threw his wings up around Dean, cocooning them in the warmth of the angelic structures and shielding them from prying eyes. Dean seemed to freeze for a long moment before finally relaxing into Castiel's feathers. "Dean." He paused, unsure about what exactly he wanted to say. He reached out one hand, cupping the side of Dean's face, and was instantly gratified when Dean turned his cheek into Castiel's palm. Resolved, the fingers on his other hand moved purposefully among the feathers on one of his wings, and finding what they had been searching for, pulled a loose one free from the others. He moved his hand from Dean's face and, after smoothing the barbs back into place around the shaft, grasped Dean's paw and place the feather on his palm.

"Cas," Dean choked. Their eyes met once more in the darkness and Dean searched Castiel's gaze for something. Seeming to find it, his face softened into a smile as his claws closed around the feather. "Thank you Cas."

Castiel was about to respond when he heard Adam yell, "They're here!" followed by Sam's "Everybody get into position by the front door!" There was a rush of activity as everybody hurried down to the entryway. Something occurred to Castiel as he strapped his weapons to his hips and he moved off toward his room as fast as he was able to.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, pushing against the flow of pseudo-warriors to follow the angel. "What're you doing? We need to be going the other way."

Castiel didn't stop. "Dean, I need to retrieve something from my room. Go down with the others. It will be easier for me to take off from an elevated position in any case." He did pause when Dean made a noise of protest and stretched out his right wing to brush the tip across Dean's face. Castiel stared at him for a moment, memorizing everything, just in case… "Go, Dean. You are needed elsewhere."

Dean hesitated but did as Castiel said. He looked back only once to murmur, "Be careful, Cas," and then he was gone.

Castiel took a breath and turned to continue in the direction he had been going before Dean had stopped him. When he finally burst through the door of his room, he only had to look around briefly before he spotted Michael's sword leaning up against the wardrobe where he had left it. He had never once contemplated using it as Michael had intended him to, but now he was glad that his brother had given it to him. Lucifer had most likely deprived the warrior of his weapons, and Castiel had no intention of getting his father back only to lose his brother instead. Grabbing the sword, he moved to the window, pushed it open, and jumped.

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Michael somehow managed to stumble to his feet as he watched the supernatural army charge toward the castle. He moved to put himself between his father and the chaos that surrounded them, knowing that despite his weaponless state, he would still be able to provide Bobby with some protection. His eyes locked on Lucifer, who was standing serenely as he watched the first of his men push their way into the castle. Michael wanted very badly to just walk over to him and punch the smug bastard, but now wasn't really the time for it. With no weapon—and no foreseeable way to get one—Michael wouldn't be able to get more than one swing in before Lucifer swung back, and Michael was sure the man wouldn't be using his fists.

Lucifer's head jerked up suddenly as a shadow swept over him and Michael turned just in time to see his little brother land beside their father, the sword his brother had given him clutched in his hand. Castiel passed the sword to Michael without a word and, gathering Bobby into his arms, launched himself back into the air before Lucifer had a chance to stop him. Michael was glad that his father was now safe, but he had to wonder what Castiel was thinking coming anywhere near Lucifer in the first place. That could be addressed later, however. At the moment, Michael had Lucifer to worry about and he wasn't about to make the mistake of underestimating his old friend's ruthlessness again. The man sauntered toward him as though he had all the time in the world and Michael tensed in preparation for what he knew was coming.

"Your _brother_ is quite the specimen, Michael." He sneered the word 'brother' as though he found Michael's blood connection to an angel entirely distasteful. "Capable of flight and strong enough to carry a grown man with ease; yes, he will be wondrous once I have him trained." Lucifer threw Michael a horrifying leer and chuckled darkly. "It is almost too bad that you will not be alive to see him after he knows how to please me both on _and off_ of the battlefield."

Michael saw red and only barely restrained the impulse to charge at Lucifer in reckless abandon. He realized at that moment that any remnants of the friendship that he had once had with Lucifer had finally been dispelled by that one comment. The man in front of Michael was not the friend he had once known. He took a step back, both physically and mentally, in an attempt to calm himself, but Lucifer followed, trying to provoke Michael into attacking.

"Your brother won't be the only one I take, you know. Oh, sure, he will be the most satisfying—breaking him, mastering a being so powerful; it will be intoxicating." Lucifer's lips smacked together as he imagined it, his eyes distant as he watched whatever sick fantasy was playing out in his head. Then he focused back in on Michael, a horrifying grin stretching his lips. "I will have him on his knees before me, and that rush alone will feel so good, but I will have others too," he taunted. "There must be others you care for, someone up at that castle of yours that it would hurt you to lose. A sweet maiden just ripe for the taking, perhaps." He shot Michael a sly look. "Or is it the pretty young men that catch your fancy?"

 _Adam._ Just the thought of what Lucifer was implying, the thought of something that depraved happening to the little teacup, the thought of him breaking and pleading and screaming… It made his blood boil with anger and his stomach churn in disgust. He was holding onto his sanity by a thread by this point and, God help him, if Lucifer said one more word he would lose it. Then, he heard a flutter of wings and, before he could protest, he was swept up and spirited away.

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Adam had been waiting anxiously on the tower balcony for something to happen—what, he didn't know, but damn, being so useless was killing him—when he saw Castiel winging toward him. He moved out of the way just in time as the angel swept down to land. Castiel took a minute to free Bobby's arms from their stiff position behind his back and then check the man over for injuries. Seeing that none of the wounds were fatal, he took flight once more and went back in the direction from which he had come. Adam hopped closer to Bobby, who was rubbing the feeling back into his shoulders, and nudged him to get his attention.

The man looked down and grunted, "Hey, kid, didn't think I'd be seeing you again. Least, not so soon."

"Where's Michael?" Adam couldn't help asking.

Bobby sighed. "He's still with Lucifer." Adam started to panic. How could the angel have left his brother down there with that monster? His reaction must have been plainly displayed on his face because Bobby was quick to reassure him, "Castiel couldn't carry us both. I'm sure he left just now to bring him back."

Adam allowed himself to calm down a bit, but he still didn't relax completely until Castiel crash-landed on the balcony, Michael's struggles pulling them down into a heap on the floor. The teacup rushed over, wanting to make sure that both the man and the angel—mostly the man, if Adam was being honest with himself—were okay, and found himself snatched up by the human before he had a chance to speak. Michael turned him this way and that, running his fingers over the teacup as though checking him for cracks. Adam couldn't repress a shiver at the feeling of those hands touching him. _God, I have it bad._

Michael's compulsion to touch him seemingly ended as soon as it began. He set Adam back on the floor and stood. "Castiel," he said, his voice sounding strangely haunted. "Take me back. I have a devil to kill."

Castiel tilted his head and stared at Michael for a moment before he spoke. "No." He turned away from his brother, completely ignoring him and speaking to Adam and Bobby instead. "Keep him here," he told him. Then, he spread his wings and took off, quickly vanishing from sight.

Adam watched the angel until he disappeared and the teacup swung around, when he heard Michael curse. He stared at the man for a moment. Michael didn't seem the type to allow his self-control slip with any frequency. What had Lucifer done to him to make him lose his composure like that? Michael had been so strong, so self-assured when he had been to the castle before. Now he just looked pissed. Adam counted it as a very good thing that Castiel had gotten to Michael before the man went into a rage and attacked Lucifer. In that state of mind, he would have most likely gotten himself killed.

Adam moved over to where Michael had slid down to sit against the wall, his hands clenched beside him on the ground. The teacup approached him hesitantly and slid his handle onto the man's thumb. When Michael looked up at him, Adam found it in him to ask, "Michael, what's wrong?"

The man stared at the place where skin met china, then opened his hand to cup Adam's body, bringing the teacup closer to his face. He shook his head and said, "I won't tell you. Suffice it to say that should he win, he is planning to do horrible things to Castiel." He blew out a breath, pursing his lips. "And to you," he whispered. "When he said… I've never wanted to kill someone so badly in my life."

For all that the timing was horrible, Adam felt something surprisingly warm rise in his chest. He heard Bobby shift uncomfortably behind him and sighed. They probably wouldn't be alone in this tower for much longer, so he nestled in and made the most of the time they did have.

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Lucifer watched Michael fly away, wrapped securely in the arms of the angel, and was unable to keep a scream of frustration from escaping his lips. _God damn it,_ he thought savagely. _What did the filthy half-breed think it was—human?_ Lucifer snorted. The mongrel had derailed his plans and these days, that was equivalent to suicide. No, it wasn't going to live through this. Lucifer would make sure of it. Now all he had to do was find Michael and the winged bastard.

Lucifer hastened into the castle, determined to catch up to them before they had a chance to fortify their defenses. He paused only momentarily as he entered the castle and saw just what his army was up against. His troops were squared off against all manner of household items. He even noticed one of his men plucking feathers out of a squirming feather duster. He shook his head and allowed this revelation to roll off of him in favor of locating his second. When he finally found her, Ruby was backing a melting candlestick into a corner adjacent to the main stairwell.

"Ruby." He moved over to her side quickly and demanded, "Report."

Ruby didn't turn to face him, opting instead to stay focused on the thing she had trapped, but she did respond. "They have us outnumbered, but they are not trained for combat. It shouldn't be difficult to take care of them." She smirked and thrust the flames closer to her prey, causing the wax on its forehead to bubble. As Lucifer started to move away from her, she called out once more, "Keep an eye out for the Beast. Some of the men are holding him back for now, but it probably won't last much longer."

The man didn't bother to look in the direction she had gestured. The Beast was of no importance to him. "Michael has escaped to the tower with the angel," he told her. "I fear that we might not be able to acquire this one. It appears to be hostile." Lucifer began ascending the staircase. "I will attempt to subdue and capture, but if it proves to be impossible, I will be forced to dispose of it." He made his way around the corner and out of her line of sight before she could respond.

His face set into grim lines as he walked cautiously through the deserted hallways of the castle. When he finally reached the area in which he had estimated the tower staircase to be, he stopped and listened intently, hoping for some sign that they were indeed at the top of the stairs in front of him. He heard voices filtering down from above and knew that he had the right place. He couldn't suppress the brutal grin that wanted to spread across his face. This night would be significant for him. In the end, Michael and all those he loved would be dead and Lucifer would walk away with an angelic sex slave or another body for his men to dissect. Either way, he won.

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It was hot! Oh, fuck, it was _really_ hot!

Gabriel's wax dripped down his face as a demon riding the body of a pretty, dark-haired female backed him into a corner and stood over him brandishing a torch. _The bitch is going to melt me,_ he thought as he leaned back. When she saw him flinch away from the flames, she smirked and thrust it toward him. He gasped and tried to think of a way to get around her and escape. Sure, he wouldn't die if she melted him down—after all, his candles had been burning for this long and hadn't melted completely yet—but it would probably hurt like hell. He'd rather avoid the experience, thank you very much.

The demon was distracted momentarily by a man stopping next to her. Gabriel listened as the man told her that he was going to "dispose of it". Although he was in a tight spot at the moment, the implication of that statement didn't escape him. This man was going to kill Castiel. Based on the way the demon deferred to him, Gabriel concluded that he must be Lucifer. A new sense of urgency filled him. He needed to get away now and warn Dean.

Gabriel tried to sidle past her as she turned to watch the man climb the staircase, but at the last moment she turned and thrust the flames back toward him. "Not so fast," Ruby said, giving him a wicked grin. "I haven't had any fun yet."

Gabriel shrank back as he felt his wax start bubbling again with the intense heat. _Oh, fuck, this is it,_ he panicked. Before the fire could touch him, Gabriel heard the sound of a throat clearing. The demon turned and Gabriel saw that Sam was looming over her with what the candlestick recognized as a demon-killing sword clutched in his hand. "Nobody gets to melt my boyfriend but me," he declared, glaring at her with all he was worth before plunging the sword through Ruby's stomach.

The demon made a choking noise and light flashed from her eyes and mouth as she fell to her knees. Gabriel hopped over her slumped form to pull himself up onto Sam's shoulder. "That was so corny, Sam," Gabriel whispered in his lover's ear. Then he remembered the exchange he had overheard between Ruby and Lucifer. "We need to find Dean," he said urgently. "That crazy asshole knows where Castiel is and he's on his way up to kill him."

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Dean tore through the supernatural beings surrounding him. Heh, did they really think they'd be able to hurt him? He'd been hunting the damn things pretty much since he'd been born and, sure, he was a bit rusty, but that didn't mean that he'd forgotten a single thing his father had taught him. When he finally killed the last of the creatures in the immediate vicinity, Dean decided that his first priority should be to make sure his family was all right. Since they'd told Adam to stay up in the tower, and Cas was probably safer up in the air than the rest of them were on the ground, he focused on finding Sam.

Sam and Gabriel found him before Dean even had much of a chance to start looking for them. He grinned in relief when he saw them, but before he could speak something jumped on his back and started biting him. He reached over his shoulder and flung whatever it was on the ground in front of him. _Damn that hurt,_ he thought. Then he noticed that the creature on the ground before him was a vampire. _Shit, I thought those guys were extinct._ Whatever, vampires were easily taken care of. "Good to see you guys are still alive," Dean said as he ripped the head off of the vampire with his paws. He sent them a toothy smile. "Man, it's a hell of a lot easier to decapitate someone when you have claws."

"Dean!" Sam's voice was urgent and it jerked Dean's attention from wiping the blood off of his face with the deceased vamp's shirt. His brother's tone sent him from victorious to anxious in a single second.

Dean looked up and scanned his brother for injuries. He noticed the worried expression on Sam's face, but didn't see any visible wounds. "Yeah, Sammy, what is it?" He moved his gaze over to Gabriel but couldn't see anything wrong with him either.

"Gabriel heard Lucifer talking. He's going after Castiel," Sam explained, his words rushed. "They're in the tower."

Dean froze and his brain took a minute to process this. When he finally comprehended what was being said, he moved without another word and started running. Not only was the bastard after _his Cas_ , but Adam—and most likely Bobby and Michael—was up there too. Adam couldn't fight and who knew what shape Bobby and Michael were in after spending so many days with Lucifer. Dean sprinted up the stairs, hoping that he could catch up to the man. When he got to the staircase leading to the tower and he still hadn't seen him, Dean realized that Lucifer was probably already there. He hoped he wasn't too late.

Not knowing what the situation would be in the tower room, he ascended the stairs slowly, trying to minimize the amount of noise he was making. He peaked around the corner and saw that Lucifer and Michael were squared off in the center of the room. Both men had swords drawn and they were circling, each attempting to find an opening to strike.

"Hey, Assbutt!"

Suddenly, a rock sailed in through the window and smashed into Lucifer's shoulder. He did not drop his weapon, but staggered back before turning slightly to assess the threat. The sound of flapping wings registered and Dean noticed Cas flying toward them, his arm cocked back to launch another projectile. Lucifer moved out of the way and Cas's shot passed by him harmlessly. Before the angel could throw another, the man pulled a long knife from his belt and hurled it at the angel. Dean watched in horror as the dagger hit home, sticking into Cas's left wing. The angel screamed as he plummeted to the ground, but the sound was drowned out by Dean's roar of grief and rage.

Cas was dead. _His angel was dead._ Dean repeated the words over and over in his head. There was no way anyone could have survived that fall and his mind had no problem conjuring up the image of Cas's broken body lying in a heap at the base of the tower. He howled in pain, the sound more animal than human. Lucifer turned when he heard it, a malicious smirk still fixed on his face.

Then he saw Dean.

His eyes widened infinitesimally and though he tried to keep his face neutral, Dean could see the panic and fear in his eyes before it was replaced by a manic look. "Well," Lucifer said. "Somehow I don't think I'm going to make it through this one." The man grinned. _Holy shit, this guy is fucking nuts,_ Dean thought. "If I'm going to die, I'm at least going to take someone with me." Lucifer lunged at Michael, his sword primed to pierce the man's chest.

Dean didn't think, simply acted. He thrust Michael out of the way and the blow entered Dean's stomach before exiting his back. Lucifer and his sword kept him suspended upright for a moment, but then Dean went down hard. Blood bubbled from his mouth and dribbled down his chin to land on his chest.

Dean could feel his vision going cloudy and he could hear a scuffle taking place but he couldn't bring himself to care about any of it. He was dying and he knew it. None of it mattered anymore. Hell, without Cas, he wasn't sure he would give a shit even if he did survive this.

 _Fuck,_ he thought as he drifted into oblivion. _Wish I could see Cas one last time._


	10. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like a gift from the heavens
> 
> It was easy to tell
> 
> It was love from above
> 
> That could save me from hell.
> 
> -"Into the Night" Santana ft. Chad Kroeger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want you guys like this one. The whole story has been leading up to this, so I hope it lives up to you guys' expectations.

Adam stared at his brother's body in shock. Dean was dead. Dean—the one who had taken care of him and Sam when they were little, had fed them, clothed them, taught them how to defend themselves. His older brother was dead. What would he and Sam do without him? He let out a choked cry and his focus turned to the man who had killed his brother. Why was this piece of scum still alive while Dean was bleeding out on the floor? He wanted to do something about it but he was a teacup. There was nothing he _could_ do.

Michael didn't have such limitations. The man entered Adam's line of sight and threw himself at Lucifer. Michael had lost his sword at some point—most likely when Dean had pushed him out of the way, but Lucifer's sword was still impaling Dean so Adam figured they were pretty evenly matched. Michael threw the first punch to Lucifer's stomach, causing the other man to double over with the force of the blow. Lucifer gave as good as he got, however, and soon it was Michael backing away, a hand pressed to his stomach. Inevitably drawn back together, they clashed again and again, neither one gaining the upper hand.

The fight seemed to go on forever, but in reality it probably only lasted a few minutes. Adam didn't want to be watching this, but he couldn't pull his eyes away. The two men moved nearer and nearer the edge of the balcony. The teacup could see where this was going and he heard Bobby shout a warning, but neither of the combatants heeded it. As Michael and Lucifer fell over the edge into oblivion, Adam heard himself give another wordless yell of agony.

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Bobby was operating in a state of profound grief. How was it possible that he had just lost both of his sons in the space of ten minutes? He felt tears welling in his eyes. What would his wife have said if she were still here? He had let his boys go without a fight and that just felt wrong. He probably wouldn't have been able to do anything to save Castiel, but Michael… He could have helped. Instead he had been laboring over the body of the Beast, who was well beyond Bobby's shoddy skills with first aid. By the time he had looked up and yelled at the idjits to watch the fuck out, it had been too late. They had gone over.

He choked back a sob. His boys… Bobby remembered Michael running up to him with a crudely crafted bow and arrow when he was ten—the first of the many weapons the boy had made as a child. The pride on his son's tiny face stood out in Bobby's memories even all these years later. And now Bobby would never see that proud smile again. He felt the first tears begin to spill from his eyes as he recalled the solemn satisfaction in Castiel's expression when his youngest had read to him from a dry Latin tome that Bobby himself had trouble translating. He and Michael would never be able to exchange exasperated looks whenever Castiel said something neither one of them understood. He would never…

Bobby's train of thought was cut off when he heard Sam call his name. He attempted to compose himself and push all thoughts not related to the present from his mind. Bobby especially didn't want to think about the three bodies that were now lying on the ground below the tower. He shook his head and passed a hand over his face to remove the moisture from his cheeks before turning back to the clock and the candlestick next to him.

Sam had removed the sword and Gabriel was attempting to fill the wound on his front with wax. It would actually have worked out pretty well if Dean weren't bleeding out from the back too. The candlestick wasn't giving up though. Bobby supposed that it was probably the sobs of his lover that was making him continue more than any hope for Dean's survival. The Beast was only breathing shallowly at the moment and judging by the spreading puddle of blood, he wouldn't be breathing for much longer.

He felt another pang of sadness at this thought. No, he didn't really know Dean all that well but Bobby was sure that Castiel had loved the Beast. He could only be somewhat grateful that his son wouldn't know what had happened. Bobby still felt the pain caused by the loss of his wife and it had been over twenty years since she had died. Besides, Bobby had at least been able to say that he had no regrets when it came to her. He had a feeling that Castiel wouldn't have been able to say the same. Bobby hadn't been kidding when he told Dean that Castiel was oblivious. The two probably hadn't even admitted their feelings for each other.

Bobby heard the sound of wings behind him and spun around, barely daring to hope that it could be… But it was. Castiel's head rose above the rail of the balcony, his dark wings pumping, and his brother clutched in his arms. Bobby couldn't hold back a sob this time. Both of his boys were alive, the idjits.

Bobby's joy didn't last very long. When Castiel saw Dean, he dropped his brother face first onto the balcony and rushed to the Beast's side. Bobby could hear him speaking but he turned away, not wanting to see his son's grief. He watched Adam and Michael instead. The teacup had hopped up onto the man's lap the minute Michael had rolled over onto his back and sat up. Bobby sighed. Well, he supposed if he could accept having one gay son, two wasn't much more of a stretch. He had been watching them earlier and had seen that there was something there. Whatever it was, it seemed to be amplified now by both Adam's simultaneous grief in the face of his brother's death and his relief that Michael was alive. Bobby watched as Michael's hands came up to hold the distraught teacup, his fingers stroking Adam's sides in an effort to comfort. He wondered if they were as oblivious as their respective siblings.

His thoughts were distracted as he noticed glowing from the corner of his eye. He turned just as the golden light washed over them all.

..........................................................................................................................................................

When Castiel had been hit by Lucifer's blade, it had been the worst pain he had ever felt. Now, looking down at Dean's body, he knew that this was a hundred times worse. Castiel could heal from flesh wounds, bruises, and broken bones in a relatively small amount of time thanks to his angelic healing abilities, but this… There was no healing from a broken heart and this was one Castiel knew that he would never recover from.

Castiel was very constant in both his emotions and his actions. Changes didn't come easy to him, so when he made life altering decisions they tended to stick. His life had changed quite a bit over the last year, but nothing had affected him with as much intensity as Dean had. Castiel had never told the man how he felt about him and now, he would never know how _Dean_ felt about _him_. In that moment, he had his first experience with regret and it made him mourn all the more for what could have been.

He dropped to his knees beside Dean, heedless of the blood that was coating his pant legs. He was crying but he couldn't bring himself to even attempt to stop the tears. Castiel noticed Gabriel leading Sam away from them, but wasn't able to muster up the energy to acknowledge them. At that moment, Dean seemed to be his whole world and it was all crumbling around him. He placed a hand on Dean's chest, felt that he was still breathing, if only just barely. Castiel leaned forward when he saw Dean's eyes flutter open.

"Dean!" Dean didn't answer, just looked at the angel through hazy eyes. Castiel ran his fingers through the hair on Dean's cheek and rested his forehead against the Beast's. "Dean," he whispered. "You cannot die. I will not let you." He ran one hand down Dean's chest to place it over the wound on his stomach and attempted to push the healing energy he had used earlier from his own body into Dean's. When nothing happened, he closed his eyes and concentrated harder. His eyes flew open, wide with despair. "Why is it not working?" Dean gave him one last heartbreaking look before his eyes rolled back. Castiel moved his hand up and over Dean's heart and felt its final beat under his fingers. "Dean," he whispered. "Please do not die. Please." Tears made tracks down his face as he sobbed, some of them falling onto Dean's cheeks. "Please," he murmured softly once more. "I love you."

He moved his head down to Dean's right shoulder and buried his face in the fur on his neck when Dean didn't respond. He didn't see Dean start to glow until he heard Sam's gasp from behind him and looked up. He jerked back instinctively at first. What was happening? When Dean's shoulders started to lifting from the floor, Castiel moved forward again to cover Dean's body with his own. The angel didn't know what was going on, but there was no way he was going to let something take Dean away from him—even if Dean wasn't in there anymore.

His hand drifted up to Dean's left shoulder and gripped it tight. Light started to pour from the area where Castiel's hand met Dean's fur. Castiel had a moment to be surprised about that before his vision blurred and the world faded into darkness.

..........................................................................................................................................................

When Dean opened his eyes, he was sitting on a lakeside dock, Castiel seated next to him. The angel's wings were stretched out behind him, fluttering in the breeze. When Cas looked over and saw Dean, his face widened into the largest, most expressive smile Dean had ever seen on the angel. "Dean." Castiel reached out and brushed his fingers over Dean's face and the man was startled when he felt the sensation of flesh on flesh. It was one he hadn't felt in over a century.

He raised his hands and simply looked at them. Fingers, no claws. He wiggled said fingers, feeling the way they moved, and then turned his gaze to the angel. "Cas," he choked out. Cas leaned forward and rested their foreheads together. "Cas, what's going on? I thought you were dead." Dean's tone was haunted; he didn't particularly want to think on that subject, but he had to ask.

Dean brought one hand up and rubbed a palm over the rough stubble on Cas's cheek. The angel turned his head into Dean's fingers and let out a sound that was something like a purr. "Not dead," Cas said. At Dean's questioning look, he elaborated. "A knife is not sufficient to kill an angel and neither is a fall of any magnitude. My healing abilities compensate for any injuries I might sustain." The angel was rubbing his cheek against Dean's palm, still making that almost-purr, and it was distracting. It _wasn't_ distracting enough for Dean to miss the implications of Cas's statement. He was grateful that he didn't have to worry about his angel dying on him.

A thought occurred to him. "Hey, Cas, where are we?" Dean asked, his eyes searching the scenery for some clue. "And why am I human?" The angel blushed and Dean was instantly curious. Cas obviously knew something of what was going on, but would he tell Dean? "C'mon, Cas, what's going on?"

The angel met his eyes. The color still in his cheeks, but he lifted his chin and declared, "You were dying—most likely already dead—and I…" He tilted his head and looked Dean up and down as though to judge how receptive the man would be to this information. Whatever he saw, he continued, "I told you not to die because I loved you."

Cas's blue eyed gaze seemed to grow even more intense as he waited for an answer. Dean couldn't look away from it. "Cas, I love you too," he confessed. Then he frowned. "Wait a minute, if you love me, why did you refuse my marriage proposal? I get the first time—I didn't do it right—but what about the last time?"

The angel pulled his head back a bit and gave Dean an affectionately patronizing look. "Dean, what did I tell you both times you asked?"

Dean grimaced and thought for a moment before responding, "'I am no angel.' Cas, I don't get it. What the fuck does that have to do with anything?"

Cas stroked the side of Dean's face in an attempt to soothe his frustration and Dean could feel his emotions calm under the angel's touch. "And what was the first thing I ever said to you?"

Dean's answer was quicker this time. He had replayed that first conversation in his head many times. "'I am no angel.' Cas, what the fuck's your point?"

Cas didn't tell him. He just patiently asked another question. "What did I tell you in response to your question immediately after that?"

Dean looked away from Cas and spoke slowly to make sure that he recalled it accurately. "I asked you what you were if you weren't an angel and you said…" He hesitated. "You said that you didn't like being called an angel." Dean's eyes moved back to meet the angel's. "So, you're telling me that you rejected me because I called you Angel?"

Cas's voice was shy and uncertain when he spoke. "I did not want you to marry me only because I am an angel."

Dean swallowed and gave Cas a guilty look. He hadn't meant it to come off that way, but he could see how it had. Well, he had already admitted his love for the guy once. Doing it again couldn't hurt. He held Cas's gaze with his own as he answered. "So, if I said, 'Cas, I love you way too fucking much for my own good. Will you please just fucking marry me already?', you would say?"

A joyful smile spread across Cas's face but his voice was as deadpan as ever when he replied, "Yes, of course, Dean."

Dean's grin matched the angel's as he pulled Cas into a hug. He buried his face in Cas's neck and whispered, "This is great and all, but we're dreaming right? I think it's time for us to wake up now." Dean closed his eyes and hoped that this hadn't all been the wishful fantasy of a dying man. When he opened his eyes and saw a bright light, he abruptly slammed them back shut. "Please not heaven," he murmured. "I'll do anything, just send me back to Cas. Please."

"Dean," a deep voice commanded his attention. "Dean, open your eyes."

For once, Dean did as he was told. When Cas's face swam into focus, Dean was glad he had listened. Dean wrapped his arms around his angel and dragged him down into his arms. "Cas," he gasped. "We're both alive. Did that…" He allowed the angel to lift his head so that their eyes could meet. "Did that really… On the dock…"

Cas seemed to grasp what Dean was saying. He nodded quickly and began running his hands over Dean's skin to check for the wounds that had been there before Dean had died. As Cas's fingertips passed over his chest, Dean couldn't keep a groan from escaping his lips. The angel looked down at him in alarm. Dean licked his lips. "Cas, I don't think you should do that out here. Wait 'til we're not surrounded by our families at the very least." He thought very hard about Sam and Gabriel and… Okay, that was just disgusting. Crisis averted.

Cas didn't seem to get it, but he stopped feeling Dean up at least. Dean sat up and looked down at himself. Damn, it was good to be human again. Why the fuck was he naked though? Not that he had ever really been all that modest, but still, he hadn't even seen his own skin in so long he could barely remember what it looked like. He sure as hell didn't want everybody and their brother to take stock of it before he had a chance to. When he looked back up, he saw that Cas had removed his shirt and was laying it over his lap.

"It does not particularly bother me," Cas explained as he arranged the fabric. Dean couldn't help shuddering at the thought of Cas's hands being so close to his dick. "However, I have read that human etiquette dictates that one must be clothed at all times when in the presence of humans with whom they do not wish to copulate. I would be somewhat disturbed should anyone in this room fall into that category with regards to you."

Dean laughed at Cas's awkwardness. "Thank you, Cas," he said. "I really appreciate it."

Cas just stared at Dean for a moment before leaning forward and kissing him. It was everything and nothing like Dean had expected. Cas had no fucking clue what he was doing; Dean had expected that. He also found that he didn't give a shit and that surprised him. He lifted a hand to push Cas's chin up into the right position then took Cas's bottom lip between his own to suck on it. When the angel whimpered, Dean knew he was lost.

When Cas passed a hand over Dean's left shoulder, Dean couldn't suppress a flinch. Cas pulled back instinctively and hell, if he didn't want to know what the fuck had caused that flare of pain, Dean would have kissed the angel again just to see more of that debauched look on his face. He almost gave in and leaned back toward Cas, but then the angel passed his hand over that area on his shoulder again and Dean just had to look. He turned his head to the side.

There was a scar on his shoulder that hadn't been there before. It was red and raw and livid and that alone gave Dean pause. But what really alarmed him was the fact that it was in the shape of a handprint. Not just any handprint though. Dean watched as Cas lowered his hand and fit his directly over its twin. The burst of feeling that swept through him at the contact was just as shocking as the pain. Dean looked away from his shoulder to look up at Cas.

Cas appeared to be just as dazed as Dean was. He licked his lips and Dean couldn't keep himself from tracking the movement. When Castiel didn't speak, Dean opened his mouth and said the first thing that came to mind. "What the fuck?"

..........................................................................................................................................................

When the golden light faded away, Michael was left with his arms wrapped around the unconscious and naked form of a teenaged male. He swept his eyes from side to side and, when there was no teacup to be found, concluded that this must be Adam. It appeared that Castiel had made it in time to save Dean Winchester. A quick look around him revealed several more bare male bodies slumped in seemingly lifeless heaps on the floor. One of the men was covered almost completely by the angel and his wings, and so Michael felt it safe to assume that this one was Dean. Whatever had happened, it would seem that Castiel had managed to simultaneously prevent Dean from bleeding out and revert the Winchesters back to their human forms. Michael wondered how exactly this had come about, but before he could think anymore about it, the body in his arms shifted and his attention was drawn back to Adam.

Michael took the opportunity to study the former teacup while he was still asleep. His eyes traced from the light-colored hair that lay messily over the boy's forehead down to the smooth jaw line and full lips. Adam was an undeniably beautiful young man if one were to look at him from a purely aesthetic point of view, and Michael, though he hated to admit it, was having a problem keeping his scrutiny platonic. The boy—and he did look like a boy, no matter how much he might protest when he was awake—was younger than Michael had pictured. He supposed that it was only natural that Adam should act older considering the fact that the Winchester brothers had been trapped in the castle for longer than Michael had been alive, but… Michael sighed. It was one thing to know something logically, but it was completely different to see it with his own eyes.

As a soldier, Michael had plenty of experience hiding his emotions, but that didn't mean that he was completely oblivious to them himself. Michael was man enough to admit that he was developing feelings for Adam. There had just been something about Adam that made Michael think about him when he should be preparing for battle and had caused him to confront Lucifer without a second thought. Finding out that the teacup was just a teenager was somewhat of a shock to his moral sensibilities.

Adam stirred once more in Michael's arms and made a noise low in his throat. Michael couldn't resist the urge to run his fingers over the teenager's hair in a soothing motion as the boy woke. "Mmm…" Adam hummed. His eyes opened and he smiled. "Michael?" Adam's voice was deeper than it had been when he was a teacup, and it sent a tingle up Michael's spine that he quickly tried to stifle. The former soldier watched intently as the memory of what had happened before he had passed out came back to Adam. Michael was about to speak to reassure him, when the teenager asked, "Where's Dean?" Adam's gaze filled with agony. Michael opened his mouth to tell the boy that his brother was still alive, but once again Adam cut him off before he could respond. "Fuck, if I had known that it was going to end this way anyway, I would have just killed the bastard off ages ago to spare us the last hundred and fifty years of grief." Adam's joke fell flat and his face crumpled. He took in a shuddering breath, running a hand over his face to cover up any emotions that might be visible there. Michael could see that Adam was deliberately avoiding looking over to where Dean still lay in a puddle of his own blood.

Michael tightened his arms around Adam in an instinctive response to his pain. "Dean is alive," he told Adam. When blue eyes came up to meet his, Michael nodded and said, "Look for yourself. He's still covered in quite a bit of blood, but considering the fact that he's attached at the lips to my brother, I'd say he'll make a full recovery."

Adam's head whipped around. The look of disgust on his face was nowhere near enough to cover up the joy. He turned back to Michael and their eyes met. "Why, Michael, did you just make a joke?" Adam smiled crookedly. "I didn't know you had a sense of humor," he teased.

Michael's lips quirked slightly and he replied. "You never asked."

Adam's good humor seemed to fade a bit and he looked back over at Dean as though to make sure that his brother was still alive. Michael followed his gaze. Dean was definitely still alive, judging by the noises he and Castiel were making. Adam's nose wrinkled as he turned away again, quicker this time. "Well, that's just great," he huffed. "Now, I have to deal with both of my brothers' big gay romances." His expression turned to one that could only be classified as horror. "And now that they're human again, they're going to be able to have sex." His glanced over to where Sam and Gabriel were, then moaned piteously. "And my room's right in the fucking middle of Sam and Dean's."

Something seemed to occur to Adam and Michael watched, fascinated, as a red flush colored Adam's face and spread down his chest, then further to his… Michael quickly moved his gaze away from Adam's body and felt a blush of his own redden his cheeks. The teenager didn't seem to notice. He was looking down at his own body, his expression warring between embarrassment and awe. When Adam spoke, he attempted to keep his voice steady, but Michael heard the slight break as he said, "Why the _fuck_ am I naked?"

..........................................................................................................................................................

Sam woke up to the feeling of a naked body pressed against his. Damn, he must be dreaming. It had been so long since he had felt the sensation of skin on skin, so he kept his eyes closed. If this was a dream, it was a damn good one. Then he heard a voice whisper in his ear, "Sammy boy, we're finally human…" Sam felt the hips above his give a short thrust and couldn't stop his own from responding. "Oh, the things I'm going to do to you."

Sam's eyes snapped open. Gabriel had propped himself up on the larger man's chest and was looking down at him with a smirk. Sam just stared up at him, completely befuddled. It had been so long since he had seen that face and the last time… The last time he had seen Gabriel's face—his real, human face—Sam hadn't been in love with him and hadn't really given a shit what the man looked like. At the time, he had just been the annoying caretaker Sam's father had employed and sure, Sam cared about him on some level just based on the fact that Gabriel had worked at the castle for _so long_. But really, the man had just been a servant. One that was particularly close to the family, sure, but a servant nonetheless.

Now, looking back on it with his current perspective, Sam couldn't imagine how he had missed this. Sam _loved_ Gabriel. And now that he was able to really see him, Sam loved the soft brown hair and the odd-colored eyes so much that he couldn't understand just how he had overlooked Gabriel before.

Sam reached up with shaky hands and ran his fingers lightly over Gabriel's face before pulling those lips down to meet his own. Over a hundred years of pent up sexual tension exploded in a single passionate embrace as Sam arced his body up into the kiss. Sam felt Gabriel's tongue run over the seam of his lips and couldn't help the sigh that escaped him as he opened up for his lover. This was so wonderful, to finally be able to do something as simple as kiss—a real kiss, rather than the approximation of kissing they had performed while under the curse. Sam would have to remember to thank Dean for finally telling the angel how he felt.

 _Dean._ Sam went from passionate lover to grieving brother in the time it took that thought to process. What if the curse had been lifted, not because Dean and the angel had finally confessed their love for one another, but because Dean was dead? Sam opened his eyes and looked up at Gabriel. He could feel the moisture gathering and threatening to fall as he asked, "Dean?"

Gabriel looked worried for a moment, but when he heard Sam's question, he snorted. "Loverboy's over there being groped by an angel." Gabriel leaned back down and leered at him. "Now, where were we?"

"Gabriel," Sam whined. "Even if I didn't want to make sure for myself that Dean and Adam are both all right, there's no way in hell you would be able to talk me into having sex with you in front of them." He struggled to push Gabriel off of him and stand.

Gabriel shifted slightly, but seemed to be making himself more comfortable rather than getting up; he pouted. "Why not?" he asked. "We're already naked. It's not like we have anything to hide now."

Sam froze and looked down at himself. Sure, he had registered earlier that they had both been naked, but it had felt so damn good, he hadn't questioned it. Now… _Oh, God._ Sam scrambled out from under Gabriel and righted himself before cupping both hands in front of himself in order to preserve what modesty he had left.

Sam looked around and took stock of what was happening in the rest of the room. Castiel was lying on top of his brother, Dean's nakedness just barely covered by the angel's shirt. They weren't kissing or touching in any way that was inappropriate, but Sam could see the way Dean was cradling Castiel's head with one of his hands and almost had to look away from the sheer intimacy of the moment. Sam looked quickly over to where Adam was struggling out of Michael's arms. _Okay,_ Sam thought. _Surprising._ Sam's gaze moved to Bobby and their eyes met.

The man smiled kindly at him and said in a gruff voice, "Boy, you ain't got nothing that the rest of us haven't seen before." Sam blushed and grinned sheepishly.

He couldn't help but jump a second later when he felt someone pinch his ass. Sam turned and glared at Gabriel. The smaller man just smirked back at him. "What?" Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. "Your ass was feeling left out, so I thought I'd give you a hand." He waggled his eyebrows a bit at that statement, but his eyes were serious.

"Oh, God," Sam said, exasperated.

Gabriel's leer came back in full force. "Not my name, but hey, tell you what, if you call me that later, I promise to come for you."

"Gabriel!" The last Sam saw of his boyfriend was his naked ass as he hightailed it out of the room. Sam sighed and shot his brothers apologetic looks. Dean looked up at him long enough to nod, before going back to stroking the angel's hair with his fingertips. Adam didn't seem to notice him at all. Instead, he was examining himself and exclaiming, "Finally, I've got my dick back!" As he went chasing after Gabriel, Sam thought those words summed the whole situation up perfectly.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to say what it is I see in you
> 
> Wonder if I'll always be with you
> 
> Words can't say and I can't do
> 
> Enough to prove it's all for you.
> 
> -"All for you" Sister Hazel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody! This chapter drove me kinda crazy. The sex scene took forever to write, mostly because I'd never written one before, but I finally got it done and I hope it's satisfactory. FOR THE RECORD, THE SEX SCENE IS ABOUT FIVE HUNDRED WORDS IN, SO IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ THAT, PLEASE JUST SKIP OVER GABRIEL'S SECTION. Cas and Dean's interactions in this chapter are pretty much based around the fact that I originally wanted Cas to be a Bridezilla. When I was actually writing it though, it seemed kinda OOC, so it ended up like this. Not nearly as funny, but I hope it's more meaningful in the end. :D Sadly, this is going to be the second to last chapter of this story. I am planning to write one or two one-shots and maybe an epilogue in the same 'verse after I'm finished. I'll keep you guys posted on that. Anyways, much thanks to my reviewers and to my (awesome, amazing, blah, blah, blah : P ) beta Delu. I don't think I would have made it this far without your support. And on with the story.
> 
> Oh, and by the way, Dean and Cas DO NOT have sex in this chapter. Like Cas would let himself get married in anything but white. :P

Michael, Castiel, and Bobby had volunteered to clear the castle of what remained of Lucifer's army while Dean and Adam went to get dressed. They had briefly entertained the notion of trying to get Sam and Gabriel to help, but the idea was quickly discarded. Nobody wanted to interrupt Sam and Gabriel's celebratory endeavors and Michael really didn't think that the pair was needed anyway. Many of the supernatural beings had been driven off already or had fled later when Lucifer had fallen. For the most part, all they needed to do was get rid of the bodies that were left behind.

When they got downstairs, Michael was suddenly reminded that the Winchesters and Gabriel weren't the only cursed ones in the castle. Naked humans were everywhere. Shaking his head, Michael decided to just ignore them and got to work. The three men split up to cover more ground as they methodically started piling bodies outside to be burned. Once they had finished clearing the first floor of the castle, Castiel quietly suggested that Michael go outside and search the grounds while he and Bobby worked on the upper levels inside. Michael gave his brother a thankful look and then left the castle to find Lucifer's body.

When he reached the base of the tower and saw Lucifer's form crumpled on the ground, Michael felt something inside of him shatter. All of the pain and rage that he had held back since he had been captured by Lucifer burst forth. Michael had been able to keep it inside when he had something, or more specifically someone, to direct those negative feelings toward. The anger he had felt when Lucifer threatened Adam, the anguish he had experienced when he thought his brother dead, and then the commiseration when Castiel had returned to find Dean dying. In each case, Lucifer had acted as the focal point when Michael turned those feelings into rage. Now that Lucifer was dead, he found that the emotions weren't rage anymore, they were grief. Michael fell to his knees beside his former comrade's body. "Why, brother, why?" he asked Lucifer, his voice trembling. "Why did you do this to yourself? Why did you do this to _me_?"

Michael didn't notice Adam's approach until the teenager was kneeling on the ground next to him, face full of concern. The boy extended one hand and gripped Michael's shoulder in a gesture of comfort. The soldier couldn't bring himself to meet Adam's eyes as his tears fell, but the solid hold on his arm never wavered, allowing Michael to grieve for all that had happened and then for the brother that Lucifer might have been if somewhere down the line, things had gone differently.

And if Michael allowed Adam to hold his hand while they salted and burned Lucifer's body, well, no one else was around to see it.

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Gabriel had all of about a minute to prepare everything before Sam got to their room. He turned down the bed—maybe Sam liked to do it under the sheets—and then opened the bedside drawer and pulled out the container of cooking oil he had stolen from the kitchen weeks ago when the angel had first arrived. His fingers fumbled the container a bit and when he set is down on the tabletop, he noticed that his hands were shaking. No, that wasn't possible. That would imply that he was nervous and Gabriel didn't do nervous. So what if he and Sam were about to have sex for the first time? If he had the balls to tell the guy that he loved him, he sure as hell would be able to do this. The thought heartened him and he was finally able to calm himself down.

Gabriel heard the telltale creak as the door opened and then the click as it closed again. He didn't have to turn around to know that it was Sam. His thoughts stopped. It was _Sam. His Sam._ The Sasquatch with floppy hair and fucking puppy eyes. The guy with the laugh that was too goofy to be anything but genuine and who trusted Gabriel to curl up inside of him, right next to his heart. He could do this. Sam was worth it.

Then, Gabriel was facing Sam and the last of his nerves faded away. He was in Sam's arms before he had even consciously acknowledged that he wanted to be there. Gabriel moaned as their lips met and he couldn't repress a shudder when he felt Sam's erection touched him, leaving a wet trail of precum on his stomach as they separated. The taller man had to bend his head forward to capture his lover's lips and, conscious of this, Gabriel backed toward the bed before turning them around and pushing Sam onto it. Sam looked startled for a moment when Gabriel pushed his knees apart, but he allowed it. Gabriel crawled up between Sam's legs and lined their dicks up as he lay down on top of Sam.

"Gabriel," Sam groaned, his hips thrusting slightly as the head of Gabriel's cock brushed over his. Gabriel allowed this a few times—God damn, it felt good—but Sam sounded way too close to coming for Gabriel's liking. He lifted back up so that they were no longer touching, Sam's hips attempting to follow his. "C'mon, Gabriel," Sam whined. "I need you. Please."

"Shhh…" he murmured. "It's okay, Sammy. Let me take care of everything." He leaned forward to place a tender kiss on Sam's lips and then reached over to the bedside table. He grabbed the container of improvised lube and sat back on his heels before taking out the stopper to pour a bit of it on his fingers. He rubbed his hands together to warm it up before reaching down to take hold of Sam's erection. He let his hand glide up and down a few times before he moved the slick fingers of his other hand back to Sam's entrance.

Sam gasped and arched his back. "Gabriel!"

Gabriel circled Sam's hole in an attempt to loosen the muscle before slipping his finger inside. He groaned at the tight heat. "Sam! Fuck, you're so tight." He pumped the finger experimentally a few times to see what Sam's reaction would be. This was Sam's first time with a guy and Gabriel wanted to make sure he was enjoying it. "Is this okay?" he asked, relieved when Sam nodded. Gabriel took a second to watch Sam's expression as he finger-fucked him. Sam's eyes were half closed and glazed with desire. He was panting and his hair was sweaty and his cheeks were flushed. To Gabriel he had never looked more beautiful.

"Gabriel," Sam moaned. "Do something!" Gabriel came back to himself and moved his finger in and out a few more times before slipping another finger into his lover. "Ngh!" Sam grunted as Gabriel started to scissor his fingers. Gabriel looked back up at Sam's face again, careful not to stop moving his fingers this time. Sam caught Gabriel's eyes with his own and glared. "Gabriel, I haven't had sex in a hundred and fifty years. I want you. Now!"

Oh, fuck, it made Gabriel want to just push into him right away, but Sam had never done this before. If he didn't want to hurt Sam, he would have to make sure that he was fully prepared first. He slipped a third finger in next to the first two and Sam whimpered. Damn it, Gabriel wasn't going to be able to do this much longer. Sam cried out and Gabriel could feel his lover's muscles fluttering around him as he rubbed a knuckle over the man's prostate. Sam panted jaggedly for a moment before leaning up and hissing at Gabriel, "Now. I'm ready. Do it now."

Gabriel gulped and nodded, slipping his fingers out of Sam's hole. He poured some more lube into his hand and slicked himself up before positioning himself at Sam's entrance. Sam writhed underneath him as Gabriel pushed in, and when he was finally in as deep as he could go, his lover let out a moan that went straight to Gabriel's cock. He desperately wanted to start thrusting, but he waited for Sam to adjust and give him the go ahead first. It was the hardest minute of Gabriel's life, but it was worth it when Sam looked him in the eye, pulled him down for a kiss, and started moving.

Letting go of all his reservations, Gabriel pulled out almost all the way before easing himself back in. Sam let out a choking sound and wrapped his legs tightly around his lover's waist. Pulling his hands away from where they had been clutching the sheets, Sam threaded his fingers through Gabriel's hair and yanked him down into a kiss. It was a bit too full of teeth for Gabriel's taste, but by that point he didn't care because it was _Sam_ and they were having sex and nothing else mattered.

Gabriel could feel himself getting close and reached down between their bodies to Sam's dick. His palm slid smoothly over Sam's skin, and he gradually increased the pace of his fist until Sam was jerking beneath him. Sam's muscles constricted around Gabriel's cock as he came and that added tightness pushed him over the edge. He cried out and thrust into Sam a few more times, spilling his release into his lover. Exhausted, he pulled out and collapsed on top of Sam.

Sam and Gabriel lay there panting for what felt like forever before Gabriel finally lifted his head from where it had fallen against Sam's neck. All traces of his usually smirk were absent from his face as he said, "Fuck, Sam. If there were any doubt in my mind that I loved you before, there sure as hell isn't now." Gabriel smoothed the damp hair back off of that abnormally large forehead he loved so much and planted a kiss on Sam's temple. "You were amazing."

Sam looked at him for a moment and then leaned up to press a remarkably tender kiss to Gabriel's lips. "I love you," he murmured. "Is it always like that or is it just because…"

It took Gabriel a moment to understand what Sam was asking. "It can be pretty bad if you have a lousy top, which if you haven't noticed, I am not." He puffed out his chest proudly. "But in all honesty, while I'm sure the sex between us would have been great either way, it was a whole hell of a lot hotter because I love you."

The corners of Sam's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "Why, Gabriel, I swear you're practically a romantic these days."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, just don't tell anyone. You're the only one allowed to see me this way." He captured Sam's bottom lip between his teeth and was satisfied when his lover moaned into his mouth. "So, Sammy-boy, ready for round two?"

"Gabriel," Sam groaned. "I don't think I can recover that fast."

"Oh, really?" Gabriel moved his hips against Sam's in a way that was designed to tease and then smirked when he felt Sam start to harden again.

Sam looked up at Gabriel, biting his lip. "Do you think… Maybe, could I…" Sam hesitated, but when Gabriel nodded for him to continue, he said, "Could I be inside you this time?"

Gabriel's smile widened. "Oh, Sammy, I think that's the best idea you've had all day."

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Adam was going to kill them.

They were _so fucking loud._ He put his hands over his ears, trying to drown out the moaning coming from the next room. God, they had just lived through a battle against a fucking army and one now-deceased crazy ass general and he couldn't even get a good night's sleep. Fuck, he just wanted to get some sleep.

A particularly loud moan sounded, accompanied this time by a shout of, "Oh, Gabriel, faster!"

 _Oh God!_ Adam rolled over in bed and slammed the pillow over his head. His first night back in his own skin, his first night back in his own bed, and this was the shit he had to deal with? He groaned and pressed his face harder into the mattress. Was some fucking peace and quiet too much to ask?

And god damn it, Adam had had plans for tonight. He wasn't a fucking teacup anymore. He had a fucking dick and he wanted to use it. Now, it was night and he was in his room alone. It _would_ be the perfect time, _if_ he wasn't rooming next to a pair of fucking nymphos who hadn't stopped going at it long enough to allow Adam to slip his hand into his pants, let alone get himself off. He sighed in frustration and thought about tuning them out and going for it anyway.

Another yell echoed into his room. "Sam, so tight, damn it!"

Oh, no way in hell would he be able to get it up while listening to that. Adam huffed and clamped the pillow down tighter over his ears. It was no use. Since he obviously wasn't going to be able to do anything worthwhile tonight, Adam figured he might as well sleep. Not moving from his position on his stomach, he fluffed up one pillow under his left ear, then smacked the other pillow back on top of his right ear before he could hear anymore of those puke-worthy noises coming from next door.

The grunts and moans got louder. _God damn it. This is going to be a long night._

As it turned out, it was a very long night and, unfortunately for Adam, Sam and Gabriel were still at it the next night. Adam managed to catch an hour here and there in between bouts of Sam and Gabriel's marathon sex, but by the third night, he was so tired that he actually contemplated sneaking down to his old cupboard. That idea didn't last long; he was too large to fit into it as a human. When he heard another explicit phrase filter through the walls between his bedroom and Sam's he finally cracked. He stormed out of his room and down the corridor.

 _But where the fuck should I go now?_ he thought. As far as he was concerned, Dean's bedroom wasn't far enough from his own to make much of a difference. He knew that Cas had a bedroom, but since he hadn't heard any sex noises coming from Dean's room, Adam concluded that Dean was probably sexing up the angel in Cas's instead. His older brother probably wanted to get away from Sam and Gabriel as much as Adam did. That left Bobby or Michael. Adam didn't know Bobby all that well and wasn't really comfortable sleeping in the same room. His other option wasn't really all that appealing either, for an entirely different reason.

After seeing Michael breakdown over the death of his fallen brother in arms, Adam had realized that if he wasn't already half in love with the man, he was sure as hell on his way to getting there. This alone wouldn't be enough to keep Adam from seeking refuge in Michael's room, but that combined with the fact that he still hadn't been able to get off… Fuck, it was a recipe for disaster.

Half of him wanted to just go to Michael and see what would happen. The longer he thought about it, the more tired he got, until finally, the idea seemed like the best one he had had all night. And that was how Adam found himself dressed only in a pair of worn flannel pajama bottoms, knocking at Michael's bedroom door.

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Michael woke to someone knocking on his door. Awareness flooded him almost instantaneously and he sat up. Ever cautious, he reached for the knife under his pillow before getting up and making his way to the door. The knock sounded again, louder this time, as Michael laid his hand on the door knob. Assuming a defensive position, he opened the door.

He didn't know what exactly he had expected, but it definitely wasn't this.

Adam was standing at his door in a pair of sleeping pants, one hand poised in front of him as though he were about to knock again. The teenager's eyes were red and had dark circles around them. Michael lowered the knife, setting it on the small table next to the door, and stepped back to let Adam in. "What's wrong?" he asked as he lit a candle on the bedside table. "Are you okay?" Michael motioned for Adam to sit down on the side of the bed and then crouched down to get a better look at him. He put a hand on Adam's forehead, but the boy's skin didn't feel feverish and he wasn't clammy. "Adam, what's happened?"

Adam stared at him in a daze for a moment before licking his lips and parting them to speak. "Sam and Gabriel…" he trailed off, his face twisting.

Michael's worry grew. Nobody had really seen either Sam or Gabriel since the battle. Had something happened to them? "What about them? Are they hurt?"

Adam shook his head, and then stopped when it seemed to make him dizzy. "I wish," he snorted once he'd regained his equilibrium. "No, they've been having sex almost nonstop for the past three days. It's driving me up a fucking wall." The boy rubbed his eyes sleepily and Michael pointedly tried to ignore just how adorable he thought Adam was at that moment. "I haven't had an uninterrupted hour of sleep since that fucking battle and I…"

Michael caught Adam when the teenager started to fall over. "Okay, let's get you into bed." He pulled back the covers and coaxed Adam underneath them. Adam made himself comfortable, punching his pillow a few times and then rolling into a ball on his side. Michael was sliding back under the sheets on his side of the bed when something occurred to him. "Adam, you don't mind if I share the bed do you? If you do, I have no problem taking the floor."

"Stop being an idiot and let me sleep," Adam scolded.

A few seconds later, the sound of deep breathing filled the room and Michael allowed himself to settle down. _Why did he come to me?_ he wondered, looking over at Adam and using his eyes to trace the teenager's features in the flickering candlelight. Even sleeping, Adam looked exhausted and Michael found that he was ashamed of himself for not noticing before. Now that he was faced with it directly, he saw that it was pretty obvious. Michael had just been so caught up in conflict over his feelings about Lucifer and everything that had happened that he had neglected to think about Adam. It was a stupid mistake and one he couldn't repeat if he intended to pursue a relationship with Adam.

The thought astounded Michael. Did he want to have a relationship of that nature with Adam? Michael allowed himself a moment to think about it before deciding that yes, he really did. He would have to go slow though, and make sure that this was really what Adam wanted. He didn't want to scare the boy, who—in spite of all the years he had been alive—was still a teenager. Michael was the type to determinedly follow whatever course of action he had set for himself and so, decision made, he fell into a restful slumber.

The next morning, Michael woke up with Adam's face pressed into his neck, their legs tangled and their morning erections pressed together. He was surprised to find that he was the most comfortable he had been in a long while, even with the aching hard-on. When Adam woke up a while later, Michael tensed minutely, half expecting the teenager to push him away and run. But Adam, instead of bolting as Michael had feared, simply laid there with a small smile on his face and allowed the older man to stroke his hair. As Michael leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to Adam's forehead, he felt a joy and peace that he had never expected to find. Everything bad that had happened slipped away and all was right with the world.

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Bobby had the near overwhelming urge to knock some heads together, starting with the Winchester boys. He liked the idjits well enough—couldn't really afford not to, what with Dean about to make an honest angel out of Castiel—so it wasn't like they boys themselves were the problem. No, the problem was the fact that those damn Winchesters had turned not just one but both of his sons gay.

Bobby had never been one of those gay-bashing bastards—hadn't even considered himself homophobic in the least—and that hadn't changed. He didn't give a shit about Michael and Castiel being in love with other men. He just wished that he had at least _one_ son left to give him grandchildren. He had never really expected to get any from Castiel. Hell, before he had seen Castiel latch on to Dean's lips like he was dying and the man was the only source of available air, Bobby hadn't thought his boy even _had_ a sex drive. So, really, having never expected Castiel to get a girl in the first place, it didn't bother him that his youngest son was gay. But Michael… Though he had always been more concerned with warfare than women, Michael had always been popular with the local girls when they lived in the city. He had even taken a few of them out once or twice, but it had never developed into anything serious. Bobby had always hoped that the boy would eventually settle down with a nice girl, and then pop out a few grandbabies for his father to spoil rotten before he died. Wasn't going to happen now. Bobby wasn't blind, and the way his son looked at the youngest Winchester made it clear that even if neither Michael nor Adam had told the other a damn thing about their feelings yet, it would be coming soon.

Bobby sighed and looked across the dining room table at his sons. Michael looked just as he always did, but Cas… Bobby's brow furrowed. If it wasn't bad enough that those Winchester idjits were robbing him of his grandchildren, Dean had also somehow managed to completely warp Castiel's personality while he was at it. The angel had been practically bipolar lately. Half of the time, Castiel was all shiny eyes and sappy, diabetes-inducing words between him and Dean, and then a second later, he would be a completely different person, almost like a switch had flipped in his brain. Castiel had never had much of a temper, but hell, these days that boy was giving even Dean—who Bobby had noticed was the type to fly off the handle and spout a bunch of crap before taking the time to think things through—a run for his money. The only one Castiel ever outright yelled at was Dean, but the boy was just as scary when he wasn't yelling as when he was. The day before, one of the maids had made the mistake of trying to take Castiel's plate while he was busy talking to Dean. His son had frozen and turned his head toward her, fixing her with an icy glare before turning the rest of his body. "I am not finished," Castiel had said, his voice deceptively calm. The girl had put the plate back down and Castiel had turned back to Dean as though nothing had happened. To his credit, Dean seemed to be just as confused by the angel's mood swings as everyone else, but that didn't mean Bobby wasn't going to blame the idjit for whatever the hell was wrong with his son anyway.

Since Bobby didn't know what kind of bug had crawled up the boy's ass, he settled in to watch and wait. For now.

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Dean was confused. What the fuck was wrong with Cas? He'd been acting like a total asshole for days now. Well, actually, he'd been going back and forth between the polar opposites of 'total dick' and 'total girl'. Dean couldn't keep up. One minute, Cas was all over him, acting like a chick and talking about love and shit like that—which Dean might not have minded as much as he pretended he did—and the next, the guy was yelling at him over completely insignificant things. Hell, Cas had even picked up _sarcasm,_ which Dean knew for sure he hadn't used before this schizophrenic shit started. Dean loved the guy, but Cas was seriously starting to scare him.

And so he did what he usually did when he was in a jam. He went to Sam.

Well, truthfully, he had tried to go to Sam when it first started happening, but his brother had still been holed up in his room with Gabriel and Dean seriously did not want to hear that shit. So he waited. And waited. And then waited some more for good measure. By the time Sam and Gabriel finally emerged from their epic fuckfest—four fucking days after they had locked themselves in their room, god damn it—Dean was at wit's end and trying to look for other alternatives. He didn't know Michael or Bobby well enough to be comfortable talking about it with them and Adam looked like he hadn't slept at all since the battle.

It was only then that he realized that Adam's room was in between his and Sam's. Well, fuck.

Dean was about to say something to him, ask if he wanted to stay in his room that night or something like that, when Sam and Gabriel waltzed in looking—ironically enough—well rested and way too fucking happy. Dean breathed a sigh of relief and said sarcastically, "Good to see you two up and about." A pause. "Or you know, _not_ up, thank god."

Sam's face twisted, but he didn't respond. Instead, he took Gabriel's hand and dragged him as far away from Dean as possible before sitting down. Sam seemed to be in too good a mood to hold a grudge though, so a few minutes later they were laughing and joking like usual.

"Dean, would you like to go to the library with me?" Cas asked as everyone was getting up from the table.

Dean looked at the angel warily for a second. He didn't want to piss Cas off—that had been happening way too often lately—but he really needed to talk to Sam. Preferably without Cas around to hear them talking about him behind his back. So he said, "Yeah, Cas, that sounds great. I'll be there in a minute. Gotta talk to Sammy first." He sent what he hoped was a reassuring grin at Cas.

Cas stared at Dean for a moment before turning away from him. "Fine," he huffed. "I know well enough when I am not wanted." Without another word, Cas stomped out of the dining hall, his wings quivering behind him with barely repressed emotions.

Everybody stared after the angel for a moment before turning to look at Dean with a 'What the fuck?' expression on their faces. Dean was pretty shocked himself, but he just sighed and turned to his brother. "Sammy?" He motioned with his head toward the door leading into the hall. Sam nodded and they fell into step together as they walked.

"Dude, what was that about?" Sam asked the minute they were alone.

Dean shook his head. "I don't know, Sammy," he admitted. "Kinda what I wanted to talk to you about. Cas's been acting weird pretty much since the battle." He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "It's starting to really worry me. His mood swings lately…"

"What about them?" Sam pressed.

Dean sighed. "I just… I don't think I've ever seen Cas get angry before and _now_ —now that we're together and that evil bastard Lucifer was sent to Hell where he belongs, now that we're supposed to be _happy_ —we have to deal with this… this whatever-it-is." Dean shoulders slumped a bit and he closed his eyes. "I love him so much and I was just hoping—I don't know—that maybe things might go our way for once."

Dean opened his eyes and looked at Sam. His brother was gaping at him. Dean's defenses immediately went up. "What?"

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Sam was shocked. He gaped at his brother for a moment before he registered Dean's question. "Dean, you just talked about your _feelings_." When Dean's nonplussed look registered, Sam rolled his eyes. "What is it you usually call it? Touchy-feely sentimental shit? Whatever got into the water around here is obviously affecting you too."

Instead of getting pissed and defensive like Sam expected, Dean just shrugged. "Whatever, man. I'm not the issue here. Cas is. You gotta help me figure out what's wrong with him."

"Okay," Sam said, drawing out the word. He wasn't planning on letting Dean's odd behavior go, but he could pretend to do so for now. "So, Castiel's been acting weird. What's happened lately that would affect his emotional state?" _And are Dean and Castiel's strange behavior related in some way?_ Sam had the good sense not to ask this one out loud, but he made a note to analyze everything Dean said until he figured it out.

Dean frowned in thought. "I asked him to marry me?"

Sam sighed. "Dean, don't phrase that like a question. Castiel might take offense and think that you are unsure about whether or not you want him." He was silent for a moment, considering what Dean had said before shaking his head. "Is there anything else?"

Sam watched Dean's brow furrow as he searched his mind for the answer. As awareness dawned, Sam would swear that he saw the proverbial light flicker to life above his brother's head. "When I changed back, Cas and I… Well, we did this freaky mind-meld thing and when we woke up, I had this." Dean rolled his shirt sleeve up to reveal his left shoulder.

"What the…" Sam exclaimed, inhaling sharply as his eyes widened in astonishment. There was a handprint burned into Dean's shoulder—red, puffy, and obviously still healing. If Sam were the type to make bets—which he wasn't and that time with the Irish guy who turned out to be a witch didn't count no matter what Dean said—he would say that the handprint was a perfect match for the angel's. "You couldn't have mentioned this earlier, Dean?"

Dean avoided eye contact for a moment, eyes fixed sheepishly on the floor, before finally looking back up to meet Sam's gaze. "I was fucking embarrassed, okay? Hell, Cas _branded_ me. It's like I got 'Castiel's Bitch' tattooed on my ass." Sam felt a grin pushing his lips upward. He was glad to finally see some of his brother's usual personality coming back to him. Then Dean had to go and ruin it. "Besides," Dean said, and if Sam didn't know better, he would swear his brother was pouting. "When I asked Cas about it, all he would say was that we shared a 'profound bond', whatever the fuck that means. And now, he's barely talking to me half of the time. D'you think…" Dean bit his lip and Sam, who was usually all for pushing his brother into caring and sharing mode, had to suppress a shudder at the sheer emotion in Dean's voice. "Do you think he regrets it?"

Sam didn't ask what Dean meant. There were several different ways he could interpret the question— _Does he regret saving me? Does he regret loving me? Does he regret agreeing to marry me?_ —but Sam knew that he would answer the same way no matter what exactly Dean was asking. "Dean, don't be an idiot. Castiel _loves_ you. This bond isn't going to change that. In fact, from what I've read about them…" Sam felt Dean's eyes on him as he trailed off, but he was on to something and couldn't break his concentration long enough to explain what he was thinking. He gasped as he put two and two together. "Dean, your bond! According to my reading, a bond is formed by the merging of two souls. That's why you guys've been acting so weird. You are adjusting to being one soul in two bodies. Your emotions have basically been all jumbled together and your brains are still trying to pick out which ones belong to which body. That's why Cas has been more volatile lately and why you've been so in touch with your feelings." Sam smiled widely, proud of himself for having figured this out. "It all makes sense now."

Dean stared at him for a moment before turning abruptly and walking quickly down the hall. "I gotta talk to Cas," he said, his voice fading as he rounded the corner. "Make sure no one disturbs us."

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 _What's wrong with me?_ Castiel wondered as he sat in the library sulking. He thought back on his actions over the past few days and realized that he had been acting—as Dean would say—like a total dick since Lucifer's fall. Castiel felt bad about the way he had treated everyone, but most especially Dean. The angel had to admit that if he had been in Dean's position, he wouldn't have wanted to put up with himself.

This notion worried him. What if Dean really _didn't_ want him around anymore? Castiel might have implied earlier that this might be the case, but at the time, he hadn't actually believed it could be true. Was it possible? Could Dean be sick of him already?

Castiel's thoughts were still chasing themselves in circles a while later when Dean found him. The angel didn't even notice that his human was there until Dean sat down next to him. Castiel's eyes swiveled over to meet Dean's and for a moment neither of them spoke.

Then Dean cleared his throat and said, "So, about this bond…" He paused as though unsure how to continue.

Castiel felt a sudden tightness in his chest and his stomach appeared to be performing some sort of acrobatics without his consent. He wrenched his gaze away from Dean's face. This was it. Castiel didn't know what Dean wanted to say, but he feared the worst. Dean was going to blame him for trapping him with the bond. He rushed to speak, to beg, to do _something_ to keep his human. "I know that this isn't what you wanted. I will leave the castle if that is your wish." Castiel kept his head lowered and didn't see the shocked horror in Dean's eyes.

He did, however, hear the pained gasp that accompanied it.

And then, Dean growled and grabbed Castiel's hand, pressing it to the matching handprint on his shoulder. The angel's head jerked up as the grief he had caused Dean flowed into him through the bond along with a myriad of other emotions. A lifetime of feelings—from the awe that Dean had felt the first time he had held Adam to the satisfaction he felt every time he hunted down one of the soulless creatures that prowled the night—poured into Castiel. Through the haze of memories and sensations, the angel vaguely felt Dean pull him into his arms, but then he was swept away once more as the purest, most cherished emotion filled him.

Dean's love. He felt as though he might burst as it reached every single part of him. In that moment he knew what he had been unsure of before. Dean _loved_ him. Dean _wanted_ this bond because it assured him that they would always be together. This wasn't something that even death could take from them. Their souls were one now, so entangled with one another that it would be impossible for them to be separated. And Dean was happy.

This realization caused Castiel's body to seize up with pleasure and he felt Dean's arms tighten around him as they both tumbled over the edge into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DEPENDING ON THE RATIO OF REVIEWERS TO VISITORS, I MAY HAVE LISA STEAL DEAN AWAY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE WEDDING. IF YOU DON'T WISH FOR THIS TO HAPPEN, REVIEW. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.
> 
> (One of my reviewers has warned me that I could get in trouble for threatening you guys for reviews and I'll just have everyone know that I wouldn't actually do it. What the hell would I get out of it? Dean/Cas is my OTP. Anyway, if you guys feel like reviewing, please do. :D Thank you to JessaMay7 for the warning.)


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Cause everytime we touch, I get this feeling
> 
> And everytime we kiss, I swear I can fly
> 
> Can't you feel my heart beat fast? I want this to last.
> 
> Need you by my side
> 
> -"Everytime We Touch (Yanou's Candlelight Mix)" CASCADA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is only the first half of the last chapter and as you can see, it is about twice as long as most of my chapters. I decided to post it, due to the fact that if I keep putting it off with the excuse that I want to post all of it together, it'll probably never get posted. *sigh* Enjoy.

Things in the castle had changed again after Dean and Castiel had their little meltdown. It wasn't what Sam would consider normal, but from what he'd heard of Castiel's behavior lately, he concluded that it was better than the alternative. As far as Sam could tell, both his brother and Castiel were pretty much back to their usual selves, but something was still off. While Sam didn't know Castiel well enough to determine whether or not he was acting strange, he could see slight abnormalities in Dean's behavior. His brother was calmer than he had been before the bond. He hadn't been doing as much defensive posturing and he wasn't as angry. At first, Sam had been worried that Dean was still suffering from the ill-effects of the bonding, but after watching his brother closely for a while, he had realized that it was really quite the opposite. Dean had actually _matured_ by being bonded to Castiel.

It took Sam a few days more for him to come to terms with that insight and then when he finally had, yet another one had to come along and blindsided him. Dean was _whipped._ Sam laughed out loud at the thought. Sure, his brother was a great deal more mature thanks to the bond, but Sam had noticed this _look_ that Castiel would give Dean whenever the angel seemed to think he was being inappropriate. Just one of those looks and Dean would shut his mouth and discontinue whatever activities had caused it. Oh, Sam was going to enjoy teasing Dean about this one—after the wedding though, when his mockery wouldn't have the power to pull Dean's commitment issues to the forefront.

It was actually really strange that Dean's relationship phobia hadn't come into play yet. Hell, _Sam_ was still coming to terms with the fact that Dean—his brother, the infamous ladies' man, the guy who had once told Sam that he wasn't ever going to settle down with one girl, yeah, that Dean—was getting married. Sam hadn't thought all that much about either he or his brothers getting married prior to the curse. After it had happened, they had been confined to the castle and Sam had had other things on his mind. During the rare moments in which he had thought about it, he had always assumed that _Adam_ would be the first of them to get married.

Sam chuckled when he thought back on that assumption and realized just why he had made it in the first place. He and Dean had pretty much acted as the equivalent of a chastity belt for Adam's virginity. His poor little brother had never stood a chance with the two of them looking out for him, and while he had almost felt bad about it at the time—he knew what it was like to be a hormonal teenager, after all—his guilt hadn't been strong enough to keep him from being a major cockblock whenever he had the chance. Because of this, Sam knew that anyone who wanted to get close enough to Adam for any kind of sex to occur would _have_ to marry him.

Sam sighed. He knew that tactic wasn't going to work anymore. For all that Adam probably thought he was being discreet, Sam knew that his little brother had been sneaking down to Michael's room every night rather than staying in his own bedroom next to Sam and Gabriel. Sam knew that it was their fault and that Adam was probably just going to the other man's room to sleep, but he could also see that his brother and Michael were getting closer to each other and that thought both scared and angered him. Adam wasn't old enough to be a man. While he was sure that Adam and Michael hadn't actually had sex yet—apparently, overprotective older brothers just knew these things; Dean had only needed to take one look at Sam the morning after _his_ first time before asking him how much a girl had to be paid before she was willing to go lesbian—but Sam was sure that it was coming. He found himself mourning the impending loss of his brother's innocence.

Sam's thoughts were suddenly drawn back to Dean's wedding when he saw two huge stone statues of his brother and Castiel being wheeled slowly and carefully into the castle. He couldn't help but blink in shock and almost went over to the window to get a better look before he realized that he would probably be seeing the statues up close and personal later. Sam shook his head. Dean had made the mistake of saying that he didn't give a fuck how he and his angel got married as long as neither one of them was forced to parade up the aisle in a dress. Somehow, that had lead to Anna declaring herself in charge of the wedding planning and the rest, as they say, was history. Dean had actually complained about it, saying that it was weird for someone he had slept with to be planning his wedding. Sam had told him that he should either suck it up or plan the damn thing himself. Needless to say, Dean had shut up and stopped complaining to Sam.

Sam was rudely jerked out of his musings a moment later. He huffed in surprise as he suddenly found himself with a lapful of Gabriel. Sam looked at his boyfriend for what turned into a very long minute and was unable to resist the temptation to lean forward and give him a kiss. A throat cleared and Sam looked up to see Dean and Adam glaring at them from across the dining table.

Before Castiel, Dean would have been the one to speak first, but as things stood, Adam was the newly appointed hot head in the family. "I get the fact that you two are sex addicts but do you think you could put a hold on doing shit like that while I'm trying to eat?"

Sam saw the look on Gabriel's face and knew that he wasn't going to like whatever came out of his lover's mouth. He cringed when Gabriel started speaking. "All right, we'll knock it off," Gabriel sighed in resignation. Sam did a double take. _Wait, what?_

He watched Gabriel with a wary eye for the rest of the meal, but the man was being unusually well-behaved. Everyone was able to eat in peace for a change and while it was nice, Sam couldn't help but be apprehensive. As it turned out, his suspicions were well-founded.

The moment Adam put down his fork, Gabriel sidled back onto Sam's lap, completely ignoring the fact that his boyfriend was still eating. "Hey, baby," Gabriel said lasciviously, adding in a dramatic waggle of his eyebrows for good measure. "It's been _so long_ since I've seen you all covered in my wax. What d'you say we go find a candlestick and I'll light you up from the inside?"

Everybody gaped at them and Sam couldn't keep a flush from rising to his cheeks. _I knew this was coming,_ he groaned internally. He spent a few seconds trying to imagine ways in which he could have prevented this, but then he remembered that he wasn't actually the target this time.

Sam looked over at his little brother. Adam was staring at them like everyone else, his mouth opening and closing in shock and his face turning a shade probably redder than Sam's own. Sam could almost see Adam's brain attempting to process what he had just heard and failing. He finally seemed to get his wits back, but he didn't speak. Instead, Adam stood, grabbed Michael's hand, and stormed out of the room.

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Adam was pissed. As if it wasn't bad enough that his brothers were such assholes, Sam had to go and get a boyfriend that was way worse than even Sam and Dean combined. Sure, sometimes his brothers were bastards, but Gabriel took everything to a whole new level. As Adam fumed, it occurred to him that Gabriel hadn't been this bad before he got together with Sam and he found himself wondering whether their relationship had allowed him to reveal his true nature or if Sam just had a way of turning people into jerks. This thought made Adam pause. The idea had merit. After all, look at what a lifetime with Sam had done to Adam and Dean.

A sharp tug on his hand reminded Adam that he was still latched on to Michael and had been dragging the man out of the castle with him. He flushed with embarrassment and dropped Michael's hand as though it had burned him. Adam could feel Michael watching him but he didn't turn to look. He wasn't sure why he had brought Michael with him in the first place and though the other man was surely waiting for an explanation, how was Adam supposed to face him when he had none to give? At the time, it had felt natural— _Oh, I'm leaving. **Obviously** Michael is coming with me._ —but now he just felt awkward. He and Michael's relationship had been progressing, but the man was moving so slow, Adam thought he would probably be old and grey before he made a move. It was as though Michael thought he was going to scare Adam away if he touched him in any way that couldn't be construed as perfectly innocent. Like Adam _didn't_ wake up every morning with Michael's erection pressed against his ass.

As if Adam would object to anything Michael wanted to do to him. He suppressed a snort. Yeah, right. He would probably beg for it if that was what Michael wanted from him.

The feeling of a hand slipping into his own brought Adam back out of his thoughts. "Where are we going, Adam?" Michael asked.

Adam's palms started sweating—as they always did when he was nervous—and he had to resist the urge to pull his hand from Michael's to wipe it on his pants. He could feel the heat coloring his cheeks again and rather than turning to look at Michael, he started walking. "Stables," he grunted. Michael didn't answer, but quickened his steps a bit to match Adam's stride. Adam squeezed Michael's hand in a gesture of gratitude and, though he would deny it if asked, his heart fluttered when the other man's hand tightened around his in return.

When they arrived at the stables, Adam let go of Michael's hand momentarily so that he could throw open the doors and then he dragged Michael over to one of the stalls. Though he still wasn't in the best of moods, Adam couldn't help the grin that spread across his face when the large black horse stuck her head out to greet them. "Michael, this is Impala." He lifted one hand to rub the horse's nose gently as he introduced them. "Impala, this is Michael." Adam looked over at Michael who listened with rapt attention as he explained, "I always come visit her whenever I'm upset. Even when I was a teacup and I couldn't groom her anymore…" Adam's grin softened into a smile full of affection as he turned back to Impala. "Even then, she was always there to listen." He fought the urge to throw in some kind of sarcastic comment, anything to cover up the loneliness that Adam was sure Michael could hear behind his words.

Michael and Adam stood quietly for a moment, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Then, Michael reached one hand forward to lay it on the horse's nose. Impala whickered and shied away from him, causing Adam to let out a snort of amusement. He grinned at Michael. "Impala's really picky about who touches her. She's gotta know that you know how to take care of her before you get that honor." He patted her neck affectionately and then looked at Michael speculatively. "I'll let you in on a little secret though," Adam continued with a small smile. "She's got a weakness for Winchester boys. If you do a really good job at sucking up, I might be willing to put in a good word," he teased.

The smile Michael gave him in return blindsided him. In the time that they had spent together since the battle, Adam had never seen Michael's lips do anything more than twitch in amusement. But now, he was smiling—lips pulled back, teeth gleaming, eyes crinkling—and Adam couldn't help thinking that Michael was beautiful. Adam was used to making rash decisions and this time was no different. All he wanted at that moment was to touch the man in front of him. Acting quickly so that he wouldn't have a chance to talk himself out of it, he pulled Michael in front of him and wrapped one arm securely around his waist. Extending his other arm, Adam reached out to cup the back of Michael's hand in his palm, threading his slim fingers through the other man's larger ones and bringing their joined hands up to rest on Impala's flank. "She really likes it when you scratch her here," Adam whispered as Michael's eyes caught his and held them.

Adam leaned forward in another burst of impulsive action and touched Michael's lips with his own, allowing himself a moment of internal triumph and glee when Michael's mouth started moving almost immediately against his. Adam's eyes closed instinctively as he lost himself in the feeling of being kissed by Michael. The kiss remained almost innocent for a while, just their lips moving together slowly, but then Michael's free hand moved up to Adam's face, his fingers slowly caressing. Adam gasped at the sensation, his mouth opening a bit wider under Michael's, and suddenly there was a passion in their kissing that the teenager had never felt before.

Michael took control of the kiss and for once Adam was happy to drop his mask of independence and follow someone else's lead. Michael slipped his fingers free of Adam's—their hands had long since fallen away from where they had been resting on Impala—and lifted his head, effectively ending the kiss. Adam whined in protest. The teenager had barely enough time to acknowledge the embarrassment he was feeling— _Fuck, that noise came from me?_ —before Michael was spinning him around and slamming his back into the wall next to Impala's stall. Then their lips crashed together again and what few cognizant thoughts Adam had left were buried beneath a rush of sensations that overwhelmed his mind. Adam moaned, the parting of his lips allowing Michael to explore his mouth. He felt the tip of Michael's tongue trace across the roof of his mouth before pressing into his soft palette. Adam moved his own tongue forward to slide it over Michael's, tentatively, as though he were for some reason asking for permission. He felt a rush of ridiculous relief less than a second later when Michael not only allowed it, but pressed back into Adam passionately, with his hips as well as his mouth this time. Adam felt Michael's hardness press against his own and his back arched in an unconscious attempt to get closer.

Michael broke off the kiss abruptly, leaving both of them panting, and slumped forward, resting his cheek against Adam's shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. Adam's head fell back against the wall with a thump and he allowed himself to just rest there for a moment, reveling in the feeling of Michael's warmth against his own. Then Michael spoke for the first time since they had left the castle. "If you ever need someone to listen who can actually talk back…"

Adam's mind still wasn't functioning at full capacity, so he wasn't sure what Michael meant at first. Soon enough though his memories of what had happened before the kiss filtered back into his head and he understood what Michael was saying. _You don't have to be lonely anymore. You have me now._

Just the thought of what Michael was implying caused warmth to spread over Adam's body. His lips twitched up into a soft smile and he leaned his head forward to kiss Michael on the cheek. Then, Adam nuzzled his nose into Michael's hair, his mouth hovering over the other man's ear so that Michael was sure to hear him when he whispered, "Thank you."

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Dean Winchester was amazing in bed. In Anna's opinion, he was the best she ever had. Many years ago—before the curse, before the angel, and most importantly, before Joshua—Anna would have jumped at the chance to repeat her four day (two hour and twenty-one minute) fling with Dean. Sure, that might have made her easy, but hell, Dean Winchester was just that good. If someone had told her all those years ago that she would one day be planning his wedding… Well, let's just say that angels aren't the only ones who know a thing or two about the business of smiting.

Needless to say, it was sort of… surreal that she was now in charge of planning Dean's wedding. Even stranger was the fact that she had pretty much forced Dean and Castiel to accept her help. She hadn't really thought about it until later that day, but she now realized that this was a form of resolution for her. Though she hadn't been pining after Dean like a lovesick teenager, Anna had considered Dean her best for over a hundred and fifty years and really, that did something to a girl's psyche when it came to letting go and moving on.

Planning Dean's wedding was a necessity if she wanted to find a love of her own someday and that was all there was to it.

Wedding planning was more difficult than she had ever expected it to be. Anna couldn't just randomly select everything and hope it all fit together properly at the end. If she did that, she was sure that the whole affair would crash and burn just as horribly as if Dean planned the thing himself. No, this wedding was going to be perfect. Anna would make sure of that.

So, she had set about making a list of what exactly she would need to get to make it happen. The task was even more daunting when it was written down. There would have to be food and drinks and some sort of musical entertainment for the reception, as well as the cake and the decorations, not to mention invitations—she would have to compile a guest list, which meant she would have to talk to each member of the extended Winchester family—and finding a priest of some sort to officiate, plus the flowers and the clothes and the damned two week deadline…

 _Okay, okay, stop,_ she told herself. Yeah, there was a lot of stuff to do, but she was up to the task. It wasn't like Dean and Castiel were likely to notice little mistakes here and there unless she messed up in a big way. _Let's just start with something small._ She looked back down at her list. _Flowers… that's a good place to start._ And with a reminder to herself that she wasn't going down there just to stare at Joshua, Anna headed off to the gardens with rejuvenated good humor.

Some time later, Anna peered over at Joshua surreptitiously as he showed her around the garden—as though she hadn't seen it a few thousand times over the years—and they discussed which type of flowers should be used at the wedding. He was currently stooped over, holding up the bud of a red rose for her to sniff as he explained its meaning to her. "Red roses have long been associated with passion and love," he told her softly. Anna held her breath as their eyes met and he continued. "It is a classic symbol that has been used countless times over the years."

There was a momentary pause before Anna realized that he was waiting for her to speak. She let out the breath she had been holding as quietly as possible before saying, "Somehow I don't think that classic is really what best describes Dean and Castiel." Anna searched her mind for words that _could_ describe just what the man and the half angel seemed to mean to each other. "They are… more. They fit together in ways that I've never seen two people…" Anna's voice took on a hint of wistfulness as she continued. "They look into each other's eyes and—I know it sounds clichéd—but it really is as though they're one."

Joshua looked at her speculatively for a moment before turning away and gesturing for her to follow. He lead her over to a rather colorful row of tulip plants and, as he crouched down in front of them, he pulled her down as well so that Anna was kneeling beside him. "These are variegated tulips. In general, tulips are used to represent a perfect love, a love that overshadows all obstacles that lay before it. This one in particular has a secondary meaning." Joshua reached out and cupped a delicate red-streaked yellow bud with one hand. "It means beautiful eyes," he said softly, his lips twitching up into a small smile.

Anna's breath caught once more. She was at once both startled and yet unsurprised by Joshua's level of insight. "Thank you, Joshua," she breathed. "They are perfect." And if they stared at each other for a bit longer that was strictly necessary before she went back to her strict, wedding-planning schedule, well, she wasn't going to complain about it.

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Dean groaned and rolled over, slamming his pillow down over his face as the early morning sun started coming through the window closest to the bed. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to bury himself back into the rumpled sheets of his bed and sleep the rest of the day away. Sleep had been hard to come by the night before and… Dean's eyes flew open and he went from a state of semi-consciousness to total awareness as he remembered the reason he had lain awake for _hours_ last night.

Today was his wedding day. In practically no time at all, Dean would be standing up in front of a rather limited—yet still daunting—number of guests and promising to love one person for the rest of his life. What the _fuck_ had he been thinking? He was Dean Winchester. He wasn't cut out for even the smallest of commitments let alone 'til death do us part'. He couldn't go out there in front of all those people and pretend that he was.

Dean's breathing quickened and his pulse raced. It wasn't a panic attack—Dean Winchester didn't _do_ panic attacks—but it was getting dangerously close to one. What the fuck was he going to do? There was no way he could get married today, and yet the thought of the look this revelation would put on Cas's face…

 _Cas._ Dean's thoughts came to a halt. His chest loosened and his heartbeats slowed to a normal rate as he remembered just who would be standing up next to him at the altar. He was marrying _Cas._ This wasn't one of his random hookups or even one of the short-term girlfriends he had had back when he thought love was an uneven combination of lust and affection. No, this was Cas and, now that he knew what love really was, he realized that his angel wasn't anything like the girls he had been with before. Those relationships—he wasn't even sure if he could call them that—had been based on sex.

Not that the sex hadn't been fucking awesome—it had been, obviously, otherwise he wouldn't have been trying to build relationships around it—but still, the point was that what he had with Cas was most likely going to be ten times more explosive than any of the coitus ( _heh, coitus,_ Dean thought, _that is such a Cas word_ ) he had engaged in previously.

He paused for a moment as he realized that he had just thought the words Cas and coitus in the same sentence, then let out a frustrated groan. Damn, it had been way too fucking long since he had gotten laid and thinking about sex in any context reminded him of the fact that tonight would be the first time for he and Cas. Just the thought of the things he wanted to do with his angel was making Dean's dick start to harden. Fuck, what would happen when Cas touched him? At this rate, he would go off like some adolescent virgin who had just learned that his right hand wasn't going to fucking cut it anymore. God, that would be so fucking embarrassing. Not that he really thought Cas would care all that much. After all, unlike Dean, Cas was a virgin and probably wouldn't know the difference if the whole thing was over in less than five minutes. But hell, Dean didn't want Cas's first time to be a quick fuck. This was _his_ Cas, _his_ angel. Everything had to be perfect.

Dean took a calming breath as he tried to push coherent thoughts through his lust-addled brain. There was a simple enough solution to his problem. All he had to do was jerk off right before he and Cas left the reception. Dean was sure that by that point in the day, Cas would have already unknowingly made sure that he would need to. Really, Castiel had to be the most _oblivious_ cocktease Dean had ever met. He had noticed it before they were bonded, but now that his awareness of Cas seemed to be multiplied tenfold, Dean realized that every single thing his angel did, from the open mouthed kisses—which Cas was getting _way_ too good at—to the way he buttered his toast, was fucking sexy as hell.

His situation wasn't improved any by the fact that Cas had told Dean that they weren't allowed to do anything more than kiss until after they were married. Soon after they had settled the bond two weeks ago, Dean had made the mistake of pulling Cas into his lap while they were making out on one of the couches in the library. When the kisses had become more heated, he had instinctively moved his hips up against the ones straddling his own and for a moment, he felt his dick press against Cas's through their clothes as the angel thrust back against him. A second later, Castiel was gone and Dean was opening his eyes in confusion. Cas had been standing in front of him, panting, his fists clenching and unclenching as though he were trying to keep himself from touching Dean again, and his wings fluttering in agitation. Dean remembered gaping at the angel, his brain attempting to process and come up with something to say. Finally, his mouth opening and he spat out, "What the hell, Cas?"

Even weeks later, Cas's response still made him want to laugh almost as much as it made him want to cry. "Dean," Cas had said. "I have perused several sources in an attempt to familiarize myself with human bonding rituals. According to many of the books I consulted, tradition dictates that the 'bride' must wear white and that this is a reflection of her chastity before the wedding. I am well aware that our union is by no means standard, however I would like to observe human customs where I am able and as I have yet to participate in sexual intercourse, I believe that we should observe this one."

Dean had stared at him in slack-jawed astonishment. "But… Cas, a bride is female. We're both guys."

Cas had tilted his head. "I fail to see how this is of import. It is customary that one of the parties getting married wears white. Based on your age, I am relatively confident that you do not qualify…" The angel had paused for a moment to confirm his assumption and then continued when Dean nodded. "…and as I do not suffer from humanity's preconceived notions on masculinity and gender, I have no objection to being a bride."

Dean hadn't said anything. He had really wanted to laugh—after all, the thought process was just so Cas—but at the same time, there was a part of Dean that had the overwhelming urge to just ignore Cas's request and seduce the hell out of him. Almost as soon as that thought crossed his mind, he discarded it, ashamed with himself for thinking that way. Dean knew Cas would give into him eventually if he pressed—and he would enjoy it too—but he also knew that Castiel was probably using the 'white wedding' fantasy to cover up the fact that he wasn't ready to have sex yet. Dean had been inside of Cas's head and though he didn't know everything there was to know about his bondmate, he had gotten a feel for how Cas's mind worked.

The angel was fucking _terrified_ of sex. This wasn't something that he could learn about through books. Not really. It had to be experienced personally and that would require Cas to make himself vulnerable on a level that he had never been before. Rushing Cas wouldn't help that in the long run. Dean would just have to wait until Cas came to him on his own terms.

Dean's musings had been cut short when he noticed Cas shifting nervously as though waiting for Dean to speak. He had raised his head and given his angel a small smile. "If that is what you want Cas…" he had agreed softly. Cas's eyes had been shining with relief and gratitude and, being Dean Winchester, he hadn't been able to resist using humor to change the subject. Cas's expression turned to one of wariness as he watched Dean's smile turn into a teasing grin. "Sam will be so happy when he finds out that he gets to dress you up like a pretty princess for your wedding day. Maybe he'll even let you borrow one of the tiaras from his collection." He had let his voice drop to a whisper and leaned forward as though imparting a great secret. "And if you're really lucky, he'll let you wear the matching shoes."

As he lay in his bed, Dean laughed out loud as he recalled the look of pure horror that had been on Cas's face when Dean finished speaking. It was just one of those things that he loved about Cas. His angel didn't have the most apparent sense of humor—no matter what anybody said, it did exist—but even when he wasn't trying, Cas was fucking hilarious. Between his reactions and the way that, whether he was book smart or not, Cas still didn't understand half of what was said to him, Dean knew that the rest of their lives would be full of laughter and love. _And really,_ Dean thought. _What more could a guy ask for?_

When Dean finally dragged himself out of bed a while later, he was surprised to find that he had spent at least two hours lost in thought. Thank god his brothers would never find out about it. Dean would never hear the end of it if they did— _Dean knows how to think? Hell, I didn't even know he had a brain._ Dean snorted. At least he knew he could count on Cas to back him up on that one.

The moment he stepped out of his room, Dean was cornered by Sam and Anna. "Finally," Sam huffed. "I thought you were gonna sleep all day."

They pushed Dean back into his room and closed the door behind them. "What the fuck?" Dean spluttered. "Sam, god damn it, let me the fuck out! I'm hungry." Sam didn't answer, just shoved a pastry at him with one hand and a cup of steaming hot coffee with the other, before moving over to help Anna rifle through Dean's closet.

Dean gaped at them for a moment, barely able to process the fact that his brother's masculinity had slipped just that much closer to being nonexistent. Dean had to wonder whether the signs of Sam being gay had gotten more obvious over the years or if he had just been completely oblivious before being cursed.

A commotion drew his attention out of his thoughts and back to Sam and Anna's conversation. _For fuck's sake!_ he thought in exasperation when he realized that they were arguing about which shirt color would best complement Dean's skin tone and eye color. In what universe did they think that _Dean Winchester_ would ever wear a color called chartreuse?

The smell of coffee hit his nose, wafting up from the cup in his hand and reminding him of how hungry he really was. Dean looked down at his fucking delicious smelling breakfast, then back over at Sam and Anna. Did he want to eat or decide which color would 'make his eyes pop', as Sam so eloquently put it? Yeah, no brainer. He shrugged and decided that his stomach would always be more important, especially compared to this shit. They were going to dress him in whatever the fuck they wanted anyway. What was the point of getting involved when Dean was damn sure that in the end, his opinion wasn't worth jack shit?

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of clothes and flowers and shit that Dean didn't really give a fuck about. By the time he was making his way up to the make-shift altar with Sam and Adam—wearing that fucking chartreuse shirt, god damn it—Dean had come to the decision that he had better make this marriage to Cas count because he was never going to go through another god damned wedding again. Hell, if it hadn't been Cas he was marrying, Dean was sure that none of this shit would be worth it.

A throat cleared beside Dean and he looked over to find the source of the noise. A short man with a beard stood beside him, dressed in a set of neat-looking priest's robes that somehow failed to hide the sense of utter disorder that surrounded him. As Dean surveyed him, the man fidgeted in agitation before opening his mouth to speak. "I'm, um, Chuck?" the man stuttered. "I'll be, um, performing the ceremony." Chuck moved his shoulders restlessly and his hand twitched several times in the direction of his chest before he gave up on controlling the impulse to reach into the fold of cloth to pull out a metal flask. He took a healthy swig of the flask's contents before holding it out toward Dean. "Holy water?"

Dean grinned. Hell, yeah. This was his kind of priest. None of that 'holier than thou' bullshit. He extended his hand to take the container, but before his fingers could so much as make contact, it was snatched away by a much smaller, much quicker set of hands. "Charles Shurley!" a young woman shrieked. "What do you think you're doing?"

Chuck looked down. "This is my wife. Um, Becky?" he introduced.

"Dean," he grunted. Becky ignored him.

"Chuck," she said seriously. "We are at a _wedding_ , one which you are presiding over. The only spirits you should be full of today should be the holy spirit."

Chuck tried to protest. "But, Becky, they are holy spirits! I blessed them this morning!"

She gave him a withering glare, then turned to focus her attention on Dean. Fortunately for him, Sam stepped forward and interrupted. "Hey, it's really nice to meet you guys, but the wedding is supposed to start in, like, five minutes and we really need to…" Becky's gasp cut him off, causing everyone to look over at her. She was staring at Sam as though he were the meaning of life itself and well, to be honest, Dean thought it was more than a little bit creepy. Becky reached out one hand and let out a moan that sounded vaguely like a dying bird. Sam looked over at Dean in alarm. "Why is she looking at me like that?" he asked warily, edging back behind his brothers.

"You should ignore her?" Chuck advised them, still somehow managing to sound unsure of himself as he grabbed his wife and dragged her back behind him. "She gets this way sometimes." He turned to Becky and, though it was apparent that Chuck was attempting to keep his voice down, Dean could still hear him hissing, "Becky, focus! It's not every day we get asked to perform a wedding." Becky's eyes flitted away from Sam and narrowed in on her husband, before going wide again. She reached out a hand and tentatively started petting Chuck's priestly garb, all the while making ridiculously creepy cooing noises at him. Chuck grabbed her hands gently, but firmly in his own. "Love, this is no time for the appearance of Becky, Fangirl of the Lord. She's only supposed to come out when we're alone, remember?"

Dean looked away from them quickly and shared a horrified look with his brothers. Before he could comment on it however, Anna hurried up to him and said, "Castiel is on his way down. Everybody take your places."

Dean turned his back to the altar and jumped with surprise when he realized that the few chairs that had been put out for the members of the audience were already full. He swallowed nervously and straightened his spine reflexively. Why the fuck was everyone staring at him?

His discomfort vanished the minute Cas came into view. Dean's eyes widened and his mouth went dry and his palms began to sweat. It was all so clichéd and yet Dean didn't give a shit because Cas was there and he looked like a… well, an angel. Cas was dressed in white—which was expected—and blue—which was not—but, Dean hadn't anticipated just how fucking awesome his angel would look.

Dean didn't pay all that much attention to clothes. He supposed that after years of not wearing them, clothes just really weren't all that important to him. Besides, if there was one thing he had learned from being cursed, it was that the inside of a person was what really mattered. After all, sometimes the prettiest of faces hid a demon bitch just waiting for her unsuspecting victim to drop his guard.

Anyway, the point of the matter was that Dean hadn't really paid all that much attention to what Cas wore on a day to day basis. Really, whenever he _did_ take note of Cas's clothing, Dean was usually calculating whether removing said clothing would be quicker than simply tearing it to shreds. And though he had noticed that Cas had a tendency to wear clothes in very bland colors—Dean didn't think he had ever seen Cas wear anything besides various shades of tan and black—he really hadn't thought all that much about how his angel would look wearing something else.

At the moment, Cas was wearing a pair of white dress pants, a brilliant blue long-sleeved formal shirt, and a fitted white vest. Though it was almost exactly the same as what Dean was wearing—the only difference being that his pants and vest were black and his shirt was _chartreuse_ —Dean could say with utmost certainty that the odd combination of clothing didn't look nearly as good on him as they did on Cas.

Needless to say, white suited Cas. It had the singularly unique ability to highlight both the dark hue of his hair and wings as well as the pale coloring of his skin. And the blue… Dean had always had a thing for Cas's eyes and the blue shirt he was wearing made them stand out. Dean suppressed a shudder. How the fuck was he supposed to last until _after_ the wedding with Cas looking like _that_?

Dean didn't notice that several moments had passed since Cas's arrival until Bobby was removing the angel's fingers from the crook of his elbow and placing them in Dean's hand. He didn't even have enough time to regret the fact that he had apparently missed Bobby walking Cas down the aisle—it would have been great material for teasing Bobby later—before Chuck was starting the ceremony.

Dean grasped Cas's hand tightly with his own and met the angel's gaze. Chuck's words washed over him but, though he tried to concentrate on them, somehow his whole world was caught up in Castiel's eyes and nothing outside of them seemed to make sense. Because of this, he was at a loss several minutes later when Sam kicked him hard in the back of the leg.

"Ouch," he yelled, turning around to glare at his brother. "God damn it, Sam, that hurt!" Then Dean noticed that everyone was staring at him. "Shit." He swung back around to look at Cas who was looking back with warm, amused eyes, as though he knew _exactly_ what had distracted Dean and found it fucking hilarious.

"Dean?" Chuck asked hesitantly, right as Dean was leaning forward and examining Cas's lips with way more focus than he should be at this point in the wedding.

Dean jerked back and swallowed thickly, turning his head toward Chuck. "Well, what the fuck are you waiting for?" he said gruffly. "Aren't we supposed to be getting married?" Chuck floundered for a minute, but eventually did as Dean asked.

In an effort to keep his concentration, Dean tried to keep his eyes away from Castiel for the rest of the ceremony. Needless to say, Sam had to kick him again five minutes later.

..........................................................................................................................................................

Bobby groaned. He should've known that idjit Dean wouldn't be able to resist messing everything up somehow. The damned fool hadn't even had much he was supposed to do. The officiator performed the ceremony, read the vows, and all Dean had to do was repeat them. But no… he had to go and get lost in that non-existent thing he called a brain.

Bobby barely resisted the urge to get up and smack the boy when he heard Dean start swearing at his brother. In the middle of _his_ son's wedding ceremony. Bobby gritted his teeth to prevent himself from causing an even bigger scene by adding in a few choice words of his own. He looked over at Castiel and, though he really shouldn't have been, Bobby was surprised to see that his boy was simply staring at Dean fondly as his partner fidgeted nervously and ran his mouth like the god damned idjit he was.

 _Okay,_ Bobby thought a bit regretfully. _Maybe I'm bein' a bit hard on the boy._ While there was no doubt in Bobby's mind that Castiel's soon-to-be-husband was an idjit, he also had to admit that Dean was growing on him. The problem was the fact that Dean was marrying Bobby's son and, well, Bobby still wasn't sure how to let Castiel go.

Until Lucifer, Bobby had never _really_ feared that he would lose Castiel. The boy never left the house, so it wasn't as if he was going to just go out one day and never come back and, though he didn't say much, when he did speak, Castiel had always been one to say exactly what he was thinking—usually in the bluntest way, with the worst possible timing—so Bobby had never worried that his son would get unhappy and run away. After he had found out about the danger Lucifer was to Castiel, Bobby had suddenly needed to face the thought of losing his boy. Castiel had left home. He had been trapped in a castle and gone into battle. Hell, Castiel had even been killed—or so he thought. But even so, those weren't the same type of loss and, if he were being honest with himself, Bobby would say that even after he had found out just how Castiel was supposed to be able to break Dean's curse, he had never really even entertained the thought that Castiel would actually fall in love with Dean.

So, really, maybe _he_ was the idjit. The signs had all been there, Bobby just hadn't wanted to see them. And even after he had seen them… Well, by this point, Bobby had had a while to get used to the thought of Castiel and Dean, and it said something about his mind's penchant for denial that he hadn't expended any effort to actually do so.

Somewhere in the rational part of his mind, Bobby knew that he wasn't really _losing_ Castiel, and yet, at the same time, he couldn't keep his more emotional side from feeling like he was. And somehow, these feelings had decided to express themselves by making Bobby act like an over-protective bastard engaged in the never-ending struggle to protect his daughter's virginity for the rest of his life. And then even when he died, Bobby thought he might actually come back and attempt to do it for the rest of his afterlife as well.

Bobby snorted at that thought, almost unable to believe that this was what he was reduced to. It was pathetic.

He was shaken out of his thoughts when he heard Dean speaking. Bobby's frustration with Dean came back almost immediately. What the heck was that idjit saying now? In fact, why was he even speaking at all?

A moment later when he realized that Dean was saying his vows, Bobby felt a hint of regret for thinking so harshly about his almost-son-in-law. Not that he would ever be willing to admit it, but still the feeling was there. As he deliberately turned his thoughts from his own inner turmoil back to his son's wedding, Bobby couldn't help but wonder why no one had told him that Castiel and Dean were writing their own vows.

"Castiel," Dean said, his voice somehow managing to broadcast clearly to everyone present even as his tone went soft and intimate. He paused for a moment, frowning slightly, then corrected himself, "Cas. Things have been pretty fucked up ever since we met. Well, no, truthfully, things were fucked up on my end way before you came along. But, yeah, even though we didn't meet under the most… ideal of circumstances, we still managed to pull through. We saved ourselves and each other and our family, and to me, that's one of the most important things—that we're all still here and together." Dean took a deep breath before he continued. "But today isn't about that. It doesn't matter what our families think—although if they don't approve of us, I might have to knock some heads together." Bobby was surprised when Castiel let out a low chuckle upon hearing Dean's threat. Bobby had never thought that Dean and Castiel would go well together—after all, no one would ever be good enough for his son—but maybe they were better suited than he had originally thought. "What does matter is that I love you and you love me and I want to make you mine in every way I can. I might not have wanted to admit it at the time, but I was hooked on you the moment I saw your eyes." Dean reached out a hand and put it on Castiel's cheek. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper when he spoke again. "When I found out that you had a sense of humor, well, I knew I wasn't going to make it out of this the same as I went into it. You've left your mark on me Cas, and no, I don't just mean my shoulder. You left a mark on my soul and my heart and my mind, and I hope…" Dean's voice broke and tears filled his eyes. "I pray to the heavens you must have fallen from that I've left a mark on you too."

Then, it was Castiel's turn to say his vows, but Bobby didn't need to hear them. The emotions were clear on the boy's face and really, after hearing what Dean had to say, Bobby knew that he couldn't live in denial any more. His son just may have found the one person who would love him more than Bobby could and if that was the case, then he had no other options.

Bobby listened as Castiel professed his love for Dean and silently gave them his blessing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, well, that was the first part of chapter eleven. Did I tell you guys that the informal title for this chapter was 'The Second Coming of Castiel'? I know it didn't happen in this part, but Dean and Cas's sex scene was actually the first thing I wrote when I started this chapter.
> 
> The second half of this chapter—which includes the aforementioned sex scene—will most likely be just as long as this part. I just need to write it. That's where you guys come in. I'm going to need a shit-ton of awesome reviews to motivate myself. The more reviews you give, the sooner you get the smut. What do you say, guys? Are you up for it? ;D
> 
> For anybody who doesn't want to read the sex scene, you could reasonably stop reading here and not miss too much. The next part is basically just the reception and the sex scene. Although I wouldn't consider the fic complete without it, my beta told me that I had to let you guys know that you could skip over all of my hard work if you really want to. Yes, I'm trying to guilt you guys into reading it. Is it working?


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When we make love, it's overwhelming
> 
> I just touched the heavens
> 
> You're an angel, you're an angel
> 
> And I said, this world, this world could leave us any day
> 
> But my love for you, it will never go away
> 
> I don't wanna go to sleep, 'cause you are like a dream
> 
> Every night I say a prayer and I swear you are the answer.
> 
> You're an angel, you're an angel, you're an angel.
> 
> -"Angel" Leona Lewis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! It's done it's done it's done! Okay, sorry about that. I am very excited. Alright, calming myself down now. XD So, I thought I should probably warn you guys that this chapter really isn't much for plot. It's basically crack with fluff and porn. Yeah. Well, at least it is well written crack with fluff and porn (if I do say so myself) so I hope you guys enjoy the final chapter of I Am No Angel.
> 
> A big thank you to my beta, Delu, who betaed this for me after she got home from work because I wanted to get it uploaded. Although she might tell you differently, I did not threaten or coerce her in any way. :P

Michael leaned against a tree to one side of the clearing and tried not to look awkward as he watched the castle servants clear away Castiel and Dean's wedding. He had tried to step in a few times and lend a hand but each time, the man or woman to whom he had offered help had brushed him off and continued on with their work. Michael didn't deal well with feeling useless and, at that moment, useless was _exactly_ how he was feeling. It wasn't a position he found himself in often and Michael wasn't sure he knew how to deal with it.

It wouldn't have been so bad if the rest of the wedding party were sitting around doing nothing with him, but each and every one of them was doing _something_. Anna had strong-armed Adam and Sam into helping her with the table, chair, and food placement while she helped four men settle the two absurdly large statues of Castiel and Dean that had been carted in last week into position where the altar had been. Gabriel was busy stealing sweets from what had already been set out. This couldn't _really_ be considered helping per se, but it was keeping him occupied so that he couldn't play pranks on everyone else—which was the only reason nobody was saying anything about it. Dean and Castiel were off in their own world, barely touching and yet still managing to make everyone squirm. Just seeing them stare at each other was so private, so intimate, that watching them do it felt like watching them have sex.

The only person who looked anywhere near as out of place as Michael felt was Bobby, but even he was doing something that could be called useful by entertaining the Harvelles—who just so happened to be the only guests outside of the family who had been invited—while everything was being set up.

So, in the absence of anything useful to do, Michael just sat there and waited, watching as the servants quickly and efficiently got everything into place. A few minutes of people-watching later, he was almost grateful when he had to move out of the way because the band that Anna had hired from a nearby town decided that they _had_ to set up shop beneath the tree Michael happened to be leaning against. It gave him the excuse he needed to abandon his position as the party's wallflower so that he could congratulate his brother and get something to eat.

As he made his way up to Castiel, Michael heard Dean—who had his back to him—say his name and hurried his steps in an attempt to catch whatever it was his new brother-in-law was saying.

"…missed Bobby walking you down the aisle. It was your fault," a pouting Dean accused a bemused-looking Castiel. "The least you can do is dance with Michael so that I have something worthwhile to blackmail him with later."

When Dean's pathetic attempt to imitate Sam's patented puppy dog eyes actually seemed to be affecting Castiel—Michael had to admit to having some sympathy for his poor brother; after all, it seemed that those puppy dog eyes ran in the Winchester family—Michael decided that he had better intercede before Dean's manipulation went any further. "Ahem," Michael cleared his throat to get their attention. They both turned toward him, Castiel sporting his usual 'completely bewildered by humanity' look while Dean did not even have the decency to try to look guilty for attempting to coerce his new husband into supplying blackmail material on his brother-in-law.

Castiel cocked his head at both of them. "As I understand it, the usual course of events involves a dance between the bride and her father, as well as a dance between the bride and the groom. I did extensive research. There was no mention of a specific tradition in which the bride must dance with her male siblings."

Dean appeared to be just as stunned by Castiel's words as Michael was. They looked at each other for a moment, then groaned. Castiel frowned and looked between them. "Did I miss something?"

Michael shook his head sadly and mock-glared at his brother's husband. "Dean Winchester, if my brother refers to himself as a girl for the rest of his life, I'm putting the blame entirely on your shoulders."

Dean looked like he was about to argue, but he had barely opened his mouth when Gabriel crashed into the little circle they had formed. "I completely agree," he said decisively, clapping a hand down on Dean's left shoulder and Michael's right. "With both of you."

Michael stared at Gabriel in confusion. _What **was** the man talking about?_

"What the fuck are you talking about, Gabriel?" Dean asked, mimicking Michael's thoughts.

Gabriel smirked mischievously. "I agree that everything is Dean's fault—although I don't really like to limit myself by saying that only one thing is Dean's fault." He didn't look at all perturbed when a disgruntled Dean shrugged the hand off of his shoulder and moved closer to Castiel. "I also agree with Dean," Gabriel told Michael. "You _should_ dance with someone, but I think the someone you want to dance with is over there." Michael turned to look in the direction Gabriel had pointed and the breath he had been taking caught in his chest.

Adam and Sam were standing to one side of the clearing next to the bizarrely accurate statues of Castiel and Dean. As Michael watched, Sam spoke, gesturing to the statue of Dean, and Adam started laughing. Michael was captivated. In the weeks since he had become human again, Adam had only smiled a handful of times. Unless they were alone, the teenager's default mode seemed to be permanently set on sarcastic and for the most part Michael didn't have a problem with that. But then there were times like this, when seeing Adam laugh made him want it to happen all the time.

So, he couldn't help it—every time the boy smiled and now especially, when he laughed—because the sight was so rare and so stunning, Michael just had to stop what he was doing and stare.

Thinking about Adam's laughter made Michael wonder what other sounds might come out of the teenager's mouth if… Okay, he needed to stop that train of thought _right now._ If he wasn't careful, he would end up getting an…

"Erection!" Gabriel said loudly, causing Michael to turn his head to look at the man. "Such a great word, don't ya think? I mean, what's not to like about a word that means 'hard penis'?" Michael swallowed audibly as Gabriel pointedly stared over at Adam before looking back at him, as though he knew _exactly_ what the former soldier had been thinking.

Michael opened his mouth to say something—it sounded like a calm and gentle rebuke in his head, but he was sure it would come out defensive and angry—but before he could, he felt a hand touch his shoulder. Steeling himself, Michael attempted to purge the image of Gabriel's smug face from his mind as he turned to face the person to which the hand belonged.

Only to have that image pop right back up like a Jack in the Box—rather appropriate considering it was Gabriel—when he saw that it was Adam behind him.

Adam's face was flushed and his hands were clenched at his sides. Michael was instantly concerned and his hands came up, almost of their own volition, to Adam's face to check the boy's temperature. "What's wrong?" he asked urgently. "Are you sick? Hurt?"

Adam's blush deepened and his bottom lip jutted out adorably. He reached up and wrapped his fingers around Michael's wrists, pulling them away from his face. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Adam looked into Michael's eyes and said, "Will you dance with me?"

This was probably the last thing Michael had expected Adam to say. He had gotten to know Adam pretty well over the past few weeks and if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that Adam was not one to ask someone to dance willingly. His eyes narrowed suspiciously on his—soon-to-be—lover, but before he could ask, he was once again interrupted.

Gabriel burst out into raucous laughter. He wiped imaginary tears from his eyes. "Oh, this is too good," he wheezed. Michael winced, both from the thought of what Gabriel was about to say as well as the fact that Adam's hands had tightened to the point of pain around his wrists. "Are you sure you want to dance with this pervert? You know, Adam, not too long ago, we were talking about you and the fact that…" _Oh god,_ Michael thought, horrified, not daring to turn around, certain he would once again see that look on the other man's face. _Don't you dare say it, Gabriel. I swear, I'll…_ "Michael here had a…"

Gabriel trailed off and then suddenly rushed past Michael and Adam. Michael looked over Adam's shoulder in the direction Gabriel had taken off in and saw Sam, his arms crossed, glaring at his boyfriend with an expression Adam referred to as 'Bitchface Number Five'.

Michael cleared his throat, trying to break the awkward silence. "So," he said slowly. "About that dance…"

Adam didn't smile as Michael had hoped that he would, but his eyes lit up and his lips twitched, indicating that he was happy that Michael actually did want to dance with him, even if he was trying not to show it. Michael felt the twin vice grips around his wrists loosen, the younger man's fingers sliding down to tangle with his own before using them to tug him towards the makeshift dance floor by the band.

However, they had barely taken a step when Castiel's voice interrupted their departure. "Excuse me. I am confused." Michael turned once again, a small smile on his face. _Oh little brother,_ he thought in fond exasperation. _When are you ever **not** confused?_ When he saw Castiel's face, though, he grew immediately suspicious. His brother wasn't wearing his customary befuddled look, tilting his head in the usual quizzical manner, or exhibiting any of the signs that normally indicated that he was 'confounded by the perplexities of human life'. Michael noticed Dean looking at Castiel as well, but unlike himself the other man didn't seem to be suspicious of Castiel's behavior at all. In fact, he was stifling laughter. "I have read that the first dance is traditionally between the bride and her new husband," Castiel continued. "Adam, are you by any chance attempting to usurp my position?"

Dean started laughing, seemingly unable to contain his mirth any longer. He looped an arm around Castiel and pulled him close, burying his face in the side of his husband's neck. "Cas, I think that's what the bouquet is supposed to be for. All you gotta do is make sure Adam catches the thing and he and Michael will be taking our positions as the resident newlyweds before we know it." Without even another glance in the direction of his mortified younger brother and said brother's boyfriend, Dean took a step back and offered his arm to Castiel. "Dance?" Castiel's face visibly softened as he reached out and wrapped his own arm around Dean's.

Then they were gone, leaving their stunned siblings behind so that they could share their first dance.

Michael was surprised when Adam, after several moments of staring after Dean and Castiel, let out a chuckle. Their eyes met and Michael gave him a questioning look. Adam smiled at him. "I just realized how similar the two of you are," he told Michael, shaking his head. "You both have that same awkward sense of humor that almost never makes an appearance."

Adam looked over to where their brothers were still dancing, sighing when he saw that Sam and Gabriel had joined them. His shoulders slumped slightly. "C'mon, I guess we better go join them," Adam said dejectedly, somehow managing to drag his feet even as he pulled Michael over to the dance floor. Once there, they arranged themselves into an awkward approximation of a dancing position and swayed from side to side.

Michael looked down at the young man in his arms. Adam had been happy when he had agreed to dance with him; Michael _knew_ he had. Why exactly was he so unhappy now? It was very obvious to Michael that Adam was uncomfortable. He was stiff, barely moving as they danced, and wouldn't meet Michael's eyes. "Adam…" Michael trailed off, not sure what to say. He thought for a moment before remembering that when Adam had first approached him to ask for a dance, he had initially wondered why the boy would do something that was so out of character. His chest ached unexpectedly at the thought that Adam didn't actually want to be dancing with him. "Adam," he began again. "Why did you ask me to dance when you obviously have no desire to do so?"

Adam pressed his lips together and visibly put even more effort into avoiding Michael's gaze. "Well, actually, I did want to dance with you. The problem was that Sam noticed that I wanted to dance with you and he knew me well enough to know that I wouldn't ask, so he forced my hand." Adam let his bottom lip jut out unconsciously and Michael couldn't help but think once again about the fact that his boyfriend had to be the most obliviously adorable person he had ever met. "That bastard threatened me with Gabriel. Fucking _Gabriel_ , do you believe that?" Adam muttered indignantly, his eyes finally lifting to meet Michael's. "So yeah, I'm a bit pissed about it, but that really doesn't have anything to do with you. I just hate the fact that Sam's going to think he won."

One corner of Michael's mouth curled up into a half smile. "It…" He searched for the word for a moment before finally finding it. "…relieves me to know that this is the reason for your lack of enthusiasm."

Adam looked surprised for a second, as though he had not considered that Michael might be even the slightest bit insecure about their relationship. "Michael…" Before he could finish the thought, something hit Adam from behind, knocking him into Michael and sending both of them sprawling to the ground.

Having attempted to shield Adam from the worst of the impact, Michael needed a moment to catch his breath before he could finally lift his head to figure out what had happened. He looked over and noticed that Sam and Gabriel were in much the same position as he and Adam. Michael considered them and found himself thinking that it was very lucky for Gabriel that he had landed on top of Sam instead of vice versa. His gaze moved on to the only other couple on the dance floor and he couldn't keep a laugh from escaping his lips when he saw what had caused the disturbance.

Castiel stood in the middle of the clearing, his wings outstretched. It was apparent to Michael that his brother's feathery appendages were what had sent everybody else to the ground, but this wasn't what had interested Michael. While the thought of Castiel knocking everybody flat was funny in and of itself, Michael was more amused by the fact that his brother had turned a shade of red that nobody—Michael and Bobby, included—had ever seen the angel turn, as well as the fact that, judging by the 'conversation' Dean and Castiel were having, Dean had tried to dip Castiel without warning and Castiel, in an attempt to keep his balance, had thrown his wings out, thereby bowling the rest of them over in the process. Michael was not usually one to laugh at the expense of others, but between the look on Castiel's face as well as the image he had in his mind of what must have happened, he was unable to help himself.

His laughter caught in his throat when the body that was still on top of him shifted and his gaze moved up to meet Adam's. The boy was biting his bottom lip and his brow was creased as though in worry, sending a simultaneous shot of lust and concern through Michael's body. Before he could say a word or make any move to comfort him, however, Adam's expression resolved into determination. He leaned down until his lips were right next to Michael's ear and whispered, "I may have the body of a teenager, Michael, but never make the mistake of assuming that my mind or my heart are as easily satisfied. My body may want a good fuck, but if that were all I wanted, then believe me, I would not be here with you right now. I am a Winchester, and I am sure that if I was really that hard up I could find someone who would be willing to get me off." Adam lifted his head so that he could meet Michael's eyes. "But I want more than that; I want you. There isn't a part of me that doesn't want you. My body, my mind, and my heart. They are all in agreement." Their lips touched lightly and Michael sucked in a breath before somehow pulling Adam even more firmly against his body with the press of one hand and grasping at soft blondish brown hair with the other.

And they kissed, for once not caring if their brothers saw them.

..........................................................................................................................................................

Gabriel was once again lying on top of Sam, in a position oddly reminiscent of the one they had been in when they had returned to human form. The only difference seemed to be that there were more clothes involved this time. Not that Gabriel was complaining—after all, any chance he had to top Sam was a chance he needed to take—but he had really preferred the naked version of this scenario a hell of a lot better. Especially since—for the moment, at least—Sam wasn't distracted enough for Gabriel to take advantage of him as he had last time.

"Gabriel," Sam hissed through clenched teeth. "Not now!"

Gabriel sighed in frustration and dropped his hand from where it had been trying to creep up Sam's thigh. He lifted himself up so that he could look in the direction Sam indicated with his chin and let out a nearly inaudible groan—one that earned him yet another disapproving noise from Sam.

It appeared that Dean and his angel were _once again_ taking center stage in a drama of epic proportions. Castiel was glaring at Dean, his face flushed and his wings spread, and there seemed to be something of a silent battle of wills going on. The problem—as Gabriel saw it, anyway—was that Dean didn't even seem to be _trying_ to participate, let alone win, and _that_ was pissing Castiel off. Gabriel winced when he saw Dean shrug and give the angel a sheepish smile, knowing that this would make Castiel even more upset. Sure enough, a shudder went through Castiel's wings and a moment later, the angel huffed and turned on his heel to walk away. Dean looked after him, but like the fucking idiot he was, he didn't follow his new husband, instead choosing to head off in almost the exact opposite direction.

Gabriel shook his head and looked down at Sam, who was wearing an adorably perplexed expression that he just couldn't help pressing a small, affectionate kiss to. "I swear, your family is almost as high-maintenance as you are, Sammy boy," he said with a smile as he hoisted himself off of his boyfriend. Gabriel looked over in the direction Castiel had gone and noticed Adam and Michael in a position very similar to the one he and Sam had been in almost a moment before. "And since your younger brother seems to have figured out after all these years that he likes sugar with his tea…" Gabriel paused and they both turned their heads in time to see Michael grip Adam's hips as their kiss became more passionate. Gabriel snickered as Sam turned away in horror. "…you and I should split up to find the newlyweds." Gabriel held out a hand to help Sam to his feet and then leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek once he was standing. "You go after your brother and I'll try to catch up with our runaway bride." Before Sam had time to protest this arrangement, Gabriel was off, running in the direction in which Castiel had disappeared.

When he spotted the angel through the trees—those enormous wings were kinda hard to miss, in his opinion—he slowed down and approached with caution. He wasn't sure what was wrong with Castiel, but he did realize that it probably didn't have much to do with Dean messing up their first dance. Gabriel knew that he would have to tread lightly if he didn't want to fuck things up (while he was usually perfectly fine with fucking things up, now was not one of those times), otherwise Castiel might bolt.

"Gabriel." Castiel's voice brought him out of his thoughts. His eyes met Castiel's and he saw that they were filled, not with rage or even tears as Gabriel had expected, but with fear. The angel's voice was soft as he continued, "Why are you here?"

"Well, you see," Gabriel started. "Everybody's a bit worried about you and I drew the short straw," he joked instinctively, then immediately froze. _God damn it,_ he thought. _What happened to treading lightly?_ He took a deep breath and, for once completely serious, said, "No, that's not true. Actually, I just thought I could help you out if you need it. After all, you gave me some pretty good advice once and I have yet to repay you for it."

Castiel shook his head. "I have done nothing for which you are required to repay me and in this case, I am sure that there is nothing you could do for me anyway. I am merely frustrated that Dean…" The angel trailed off and his shoulders slumped.

"Now, now, Cassy, it's not that bad. Well, okay, it may seem bad now, but I guarantee that the first dance is no indication of how the rest of the marriage will go," Gabriel chuckled. "At my parents' wedding, my father danced the first dance with his ex-wife. My mother was pissed about it, even years later when she was telling me, but they were together until the day they died." He felt a pang at the thought of his parents, but it was easy enough to ignore. After all, it had been at least a hundred years since his parents had been laid to rest.

Castiel seemed to sense his morose thoughts, but he was considerate enough not to mention it, so Gabriel continued. "Anyway, I don't think the dance is what you're really worried about. C'mon, Cas, you've said it yourself that you picked up the 'first dance' tradition from a book. It's not like you've been dreaming about it your whole life." Castiel's eyes shifted away from Gabriel's and he had to move to the side to catch the angel's gaze again. "So, what's the deal, Cas? What's really bugging you?"

"I am…" Castiel hesitated and looked away once more. His eyes darted to Gabriel again and whatever he saw there seemed to reassure him. "I am afraid of sex," the angel revealed. "I was able to ignore it during the wedding itself, but then I was… I was so close to Dean while we were dancing and when he tried to do that… that _dip_ … he looked at me the way he usually does when we are kissing and I could not control… My wings, they acted of their own accord and I…"

Castiel's face was so red by this point that Gabriel would have been concerned had he not been so honestly shocked. "You and Dean haven't had sex yet?" he asked in astonishment. "Well, that's…" He floundered for a moment. "How could you _not_ want a piece of that ass? I mean, I love Sam and I would never want to have sex with anyone but him, but I'll admit that there were times back in the days before the curse when I would look at Dean's ass in those tight pants he wears and…" Gabriel pictured it for a moment before realizing that Castiel was looking at him with something that looked quite a bit like how he thought he might look at anyone who said about Sam what he had just stupidly said about Dean. He quickly tried to backtrack, holding his hands up in a placating manner. "Hey, I told you I only have eyes for Sam now," Gabriel asserted. "And for the record, Dean and I have never done a fucking thing together, okay?"

Gabriel sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing the space between his eyes in an attempt to remove the tension that was now lodged there. _Damn,_ he thought. _How the fuck did I manage to mess this up so badly?_ He opened his eyes and met the angel's, which were thankfully less hostile than before. "Okay, listen up, 'cause I'm only going to say this once. Sex is nothing more than the human way of attempting to get our souls as close to touching as we possibly can. Sure, there are people who only think about it in physical terms, 'cause—I won't lie—it feels fucking amazing, but when you really love someone, all you want is to get as close to that other person as possible. In most cases, sex is the best way to do that. The fucking scary part is usually being able to trust the other person enough to even try." Gabriel gave Castiel an envious look. "You're a lucky bastard because you and Dean are actually one soul. You don't have to worry about trusting him because you know that he will always be there. So really, you've already done what most people try and sometimes fail to accomplish by having sex." He cleared his throat, almost unable to believe he had actually said any of it. _Well, might as well go for broke._ "By getting worked up about it, not only are you just postponing the inevitable, but you're hurting yourself and Dean as well. So just stop stressing out about it. I promise you, it will all work out in the end."

Castiel's expression was stricken for a moment, but it quickly resolved into determination. A hurried "I must find Dean" was the only warning Gabriel got before the angel's wings snapped open and he was taking off, the downdraft nearly knocking Gabriel off of his feet.

"What, no thank you?" he yelled, smacking at his clothes in an attempt to dislodge the dust that had been kicked up by Castiel's departure. "Fucking angels," Gabriel muttered, more because he felt he should than for any other reason. He shook his head and turned around to go back in the direction he had come.

..........................................................................................................................................................

 _God damn it, Dean,_ Sam cursed mentally as he tried to figure out just where his brother had taken off to after he and the angel had gotten into it, less than an hour into their fucking marriage. _Seriously,_ Sam thought caustically. _Only Dean would be able to pull off something like that. That has to be some kind of record._

Sam stopped and listened, hoping that perhaps his brother was close enough that he might be able to hear him walking or beating the shit out of a tree or _something._

Unfortunately for him, the forest was quiet.

Of course Dean wouldn't still be nearby. That would be way too convenient.

Sam shook his head and continued galumphing through the trees. Where would Dean go? Sam supposed that Dean could have gone back to the castle, but for some reason, he didn't think that was right. He really had no idea why, but he had learned in his days as a Hunter that sometimes you just had to go with your gut. Sam sighed in frustration. So if the castle was out…

 _That's it!_ Sam's head snapped up and he started running. He couldn't believe that he hadn't thought of it before. Nearly two hundred years ago when Sam and his brothers had been children, Dean had gone out into the woods one day, picked a tree, and designated it his 'secret fort'. Of course, everybody from John Winchester down to the lowest of their servants knew exactly where Dean's fort was, but Dean had always ignored that fact. Dean even had rules for his fort, although the only one that was widely known was 'No brothers allowed'.

Well, this would have to be the one time Sam broke that oh-so-sacred rule. He was sure that his brother had gone to the secret fort—even if there probably wasn't much left of it that was recognizable after all these years—and like hell was he going to leave his brother alone when Dean had just had his first fight with his new husband.

When he arrived at the place where Dean's secret fort had once been, he immediately wished that he had never remembered where the stupid tree was. Dean was there, all right, but he wasn't turning his knuckles into pulp on the tree's bark or even curled up into a ball, sobbing into the tree's roots, as Sam had half-feared he would be. No, the reality of the situation was much, _much_ worse.

Dean was facing the tree, one arm extended, palm out, bracing himself against the tree. His pants were pulled down a bit and, although Dean's shirt tails were covering any of the exposed bits that Sam might have been able to see from where he was standing, he _could_ see that Dean's hand was moving in a very obvious and telling motion.

Dean let out a groan, his hand pumping faster for a second before something white—

"Oh my god!" Sam yelped, spinning around and slapping his hands over his eyes.

"What the fuck, Sammy?" Dean yelled.

Sam could hear his brother trying to tidy himself up, but in his mind, it was a bit too late for that. His brain was completely frozen in horror. One thing kept circling in his mind and he wasn't able to prevent himself from blurting it out. "Good god, _why,_ Dean?" he moaned, rocking his body a bit in an attempt to drive the image from his head.

"What d'you mean, _'why'_?" Dean asked harshly. "I'm not doing anything wrong. You're the one who came looking for me."

Unthinkingly, Sam turned back around and was relieved to note that Dean had managed to get his clothes back in some semblance of order while Sam's eyes had been closed. "I was worried about you, asshole!" Sam shouted. "You and Cas _just_ got married and you're already at each other's throats. I thought you would be at least a little bit upset about it. But no. I come out here to find you out of the goodness of my heart just so that I can be treated to the sight of you jerking off and then I get yelled at for my trouble." Sam huffed. "Thanks, dude. Thanks a lot."

Dean crossed his arms defensively. "I know Cas better than anyone. We aren't at each other's throats and he's definitely not pissed at me over that stupid dance if that's what's going through that freakishly large head of yours." Dean sighed and looked down at his feet, scuffing one of his shoes through the dirt. "Cas is afraid of sex, okay? He was just looking for an excuse to get away from everyone and clear his head, and I just happened to be the lucky son of a bitch who provided one. Cas's been avoiding the issue, so he just needs to get his fucking head straightened out and we'll be fine." Dean sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than his brother.

Sam just gaped at him. This was all about sex? _Seriously?_

"I just…" Dean continued. "I know Cas is gonna come find me soon, once he figures everything out, and I just figured I'd better…" He closed his fist and made a jerking motion with his hand. "…you know, so that I don't come the minute he…"

Sam cut him off. "Jesus Christ, Dean!" he shrieked. "I don't want to hear that shit."

Dean opened his mouth to say something that was probably going to make Sam want to… well, he couldn't think of anything that would be physically damaging enough to match the wound Dean had just inflicted to his psyche. Before Dean could say even one word, however, a strange gust of wind blew through the trees above them, followed by the sound of flapping wings and a wind-swept Castiel coming to a shaky landing behind Sam.

Sam spun around and was _almost_ unable to repress a shiver at the look he saw in the angel's eyes. Castiel's blue eyes were supremely focused and even though none of that concentration was resting on him, Sam still found just witnessing it a bit unnerving. "Dean." Castiel's voice was deeper than usual and he had a tone of command that was usually absent.

Sam didn't realize that Dean was moving until his brother stepped past him and into the angel's arms. Dean put one hand on Cas's face and tilted it toward him. "Feeling better now?" he asked tenderly. Sam looked away, sure that he wasn't supposed to be witnessing this moment between Dean and Castiel.

"Yes, Dean, I have mentally prepared myself. I am ready for sexual congress." Sam's eye twitched as the words 'sexual congress' escaped the Castiel's lips. What _had_ he done to deserve this? Sam looked back a moment later, just in time to see the angel wrap his arms firmly around Dean and then Cas's wings were snapping out and, with seemingly little effort, Castiel was taking off into the sky.

..........................................................................................................................................................

Castiel was once again buzzing with nervous anticipation. He had been so sure of himself when he had carried Dean away from Sam. His talk with Gabriel had dispelled some of the tension and apprehension he had been feeling, but it had been what felt like a considerable amount of time since then and Castiel could feel the anxiety clouding his senses once more.

Castiel's lips were on Dean's the moment he landed them safely in their new bedroom. This, at least, was something he could do without fear. The angel and his lover had practiced kissing extensively in the time since the curse had been broken and, based on Dean's reactions to it, Castiel had concluded that this was one aspect of sex that his inexperience could not get in the way of. Castiel poured himself into the kiss with single-minded determination and was gratified when he felt Dean respond automatically. Dean rolled his lover's bottom lip between his teeth and when the angel's lips parted in a gasp, slipped his tongue in to press against Castiel's.

Castiel moaned, feeling himself harden as Dean took control of the kiss and ground his erection against the angel. Dean started guiding Castiel back toward the bed, stripping them of their clothing as they went. The angel was too lost in the sensations to panic, but when he felt the backs of his (now bare) legs hit the bed, he pulled his lips from Dean's.

Castiel's eyes widened in anxiety and he froze as Dean attempted to push him back onto the bed. "Dean," he gasped.

When Dean opened his eyes and noticed the expression on Castiel's face, he stopped his advances immediately. "Cas…" He seemed to be at a loss for words.

The angel saw the confusion on his lover's face, but it was the self-blame—as though Dean thought that he had hurt Castiel—that somehow quelled Castiel's nerves enough that he could speak. "Dean, it is nothing you have done. It is simply… You are aware that I have never done this before and as this is the case, I have never had occasion to see a human body outside of my anatomy texts. If I may familiarize myself with your form before we proceed…" Castiel trailed off, unsure how to ask Dean exactly what he needed to ask.

Dean smiled in relief. "Of course, Cas." He put his hands on Castiel's arms and reversed their positions so that the angel was now facing the bed. Leaning forward, Dean placed a chaste kiss on Castiel's lips before lying down on the bed and moving back until his head was on the pillows. Castiel was unable to suppress a shudder at the sight of a naked Dean spread out on their bed before him. The lust and love and possessiveness it engendered— _his_ human, _his_ Dean—startled him. Castiel stared at Dean and wondered why this situation called forth such emotions when the other time he had seen Dean in such a state, it had not.

"Cas." Dean looked at him worriedly and propped himself up on his elbows. "You okay?"

Castiel nodded and looked at Dean hungrily for only a moment longer before crawling onto the bed beside his lover. He settled on his knees by Dean's right shoulder, carefully folding his wings into a comfortable position on his back. His eyes lit with anticipation at the thought of touching Dean, but still he hesitated as he reached a hand toward Dean's face. But then his fingers met the softness of his lover's hair and all of Castiel's hesitation left him. The short strands teased his skin, at once so similar and so different from the fur that had once covered Dean's body. He moved his hands down to the arc of his human's brow and down his nose, and then brushed his fingertips over a cheekbone and watched with fascination as Dean closed his eyes and turned his head into the contact. Finally he traced those perfect lips—the ones that gave Castiel so much pleasure, whether it was a kiss or a smile Dean used them for—with a touch that was barely there.

Dean held his breath as Castiel moved his hands over his jaw (the angel noted that, for once, stubble was not present and could not decide if he was pleased or disappointed) before trailing his fingers down the column of his neck. Castiel traced the pattern of the anti-possession tattoo on Dean's upper chest. Dean arced up when Castiel's fingertips brushed over one of his nipples, causing the angel to stop moving and tilt his head to the side. Dean's reactions to his touch fascinated him. He touched Dean's nipple again and gasped when it hardened into a tight peak.

Castiel glanced over at Dean's face and sat back immediately when he noticed that his lover was breathing harshly as though in pain. "Dean," he said. "Am I causing you pain?"

Dean slowly opened his eyes and the heat Castiel saw there made his blood boil. "Fuck, Cas, don't stop," he panted. "You're driving me fucking crazy."

Castiel's lips twitched and he leaned forward again to place his hands—both of them this time—back on Dean's chest. The nipple he had been touching had softened some and Castiel was unable to keep himself from attempting to make it harden once more. When it had, he turned his attention to the other, rolling it between his fingers. Dean cried out this time and if Castiel hadn't previously been assured that this wasn't painful for Dean, he would have jerked away from his lover once more. Castiel took a deep breath and looked into Dean's barely open eyes as he asked, "Dean, may I taste as well as touch?" He was slightly nervous as he waited in anticipation for Dean's answer. He really wanted to know the taste of his human, but he would resist such urges if they made Dean uncomfortable.

He needn't have been worried. His question was barely out before Dean gasped, "Fuck yes, Cas."

Castiel leaned forward and flicked his tongue over one of Dean's peaks, relishing the moan it brought out of his lover. Dean tasted slightly salty, like sweat, but there was also a musky flavor that Castiel was unable to name. He stayed there for a moment, simply savoring the taste of his human, but soon enough he was curious once more and began trailing his hands down over Dean's stomach. He tensed and his muscles trembled under Castiel's fingers as they moved downward. Castiel knew what Dean was anticipating. From his readings, he had learned that the penis was the central stimulation point on the male body. He also knew from his recent attempts at self-stimulation, that the simplest of touches could induce orgasm. Since sex required penetration of some sort—and Castiel assumed that, for this first time at least, Dean would be doing the penetrating—for which a state of arousal had to be maintained, Castiel concluded that allowing Dean to ejaculate so soon was probably not the wisest course of action. And so, he lingered on Dean's hips, sucking lightly on one hip bone while caressing the other softly with his fingertips, and then completely bypassed Dean's erection as he continued his explorations.

Dean growled in complaint when he realized what had happened, but Castiel ignored him. Instead he extended one of his wings so that he could brush his feathers over the arch of Dean's foot while one of his hands ran down the inside of Dean's thigh. Dean jerked his foot away from Castiel's touch while simultaneously trying to move his dick toward the angel's hand. "You are ticklish," Castiel observed.

"Cas," Dean moaned. "Just fucking _touch_ me already."

Castiel opened his mouth to point out that he _was_ touching Dean, but stopped when he realized that Dean had meant he wanted Castiel to touch his penis. He looked down at said organ and then at his own. They were quite similar with only minor differences and yet, somehow, Castiel thought that Dean's must be much more aesthetically pleasing than his own. "You are beautiful, Dean," he murmured, licking his lips.

Dean groaned. "God, Cas, I fucking swear if you don't stop having a fucking staring contest with my dick right the fuck now, I'm gonna…"

Dean's threat turned into a gasp when Castiel reached out, one finger extended to swipe the small bead of moisture from the slit. He stared at the droplet on his finger for a moment before lifting his hand to taste it. Castiel met Dean's eyes with his own and could see that his pupils were blown wide, swallowing the green. Dean's reaction to him sent another rush of blood to his already aching erection and he licked his lips once more, saying huskily, "I like it."

Dean moved swiftly, pushing Castiel down onto the bed. The angel shuddered at the care Dean took to pull his wings out into a comfortable position and that gesture more than anything made him ready for more. Castiel parted his legs easily when Dean pulled at his knees and moved between them. Dean leaned over and grabbed the jar of lubrication from the bedside table, setting it between his knees to keep it from tipping over. Castiel tipped his head forward to watch as Dean dipped his fingers into the container and then reached forward to press them against his hole.

Castiel's muscles tightened instinctively and Dean's attempts to push into him did not make much progress. "Cas, you gotta relax for me." He tried again with no success. "Please, Cas."

Castiel forced his muscles to loosen and Dean's finger quickly slipped into him. Dean pushed his finger in and out of Castiel a few times before adding a second one. Castiel squirmed a bit at the sensation. The feeling of Dean's fingers inside of him wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but it wasn't completely pleasurable either. Dean pressed the fingers deeper into Castiel. He seemed to search around for a moment before he touched something that caused Castiel's back to arch and his hands to clutch at the sheets. Dean pulled out a bit and scissored his fingers to stretch Castiel a bit wider before thrusting back in with three.

Castiel was trembling with anticipation by the time Dean finally finished preparing him and pulled all the way out. He watched with half-lidded eyes as Dean scooped some more of the lubricant out of the jar before placing it back on the table. Dean took hold of his erection in one hand and pumped his fist a few times to properly lubricate it. And then, he was over Castiel. The angel gasped as he felt Dean's penis nudge at his entrance and Dean pushed slowly forward until the head breached the tight ring of muscle. Castiel whimpered but didn't protest when Dean pressed forward, moving at a deliberately unhurried pace until he was completely sheathed inside of Castiel.

Dean held himself still for a moment while Castiel adjusted to the feeling of them being joined and the angel couldn't help but be grateful for it. The experience was… overwhelming, to say the least. His human was _inside_ of him. The thought made him groan and buck his hips.

Castiel's movement drew a stunned gasp from his lover and then Dean was moving over him and in him and he was swept away in a flurry of sensations. It seemed that all he could do was hold on for the ride as Dean pushed into him over and over. Castiel's back arched and he cried out as Dean changed the angle slightly so that he was hitting _that spot_ inside of him with every thrust. Castiel knew that he was moments away from coming and, desiring to link them emotionally as well as physically, he trailed his hand up Dean's back from hip to shoulder before slotting his fingers into the handprint.

The world exploded around Castiel as their souls became one and when he resurfaced moments later, he felt warm and sated, wrapped up in his human's arms. Somehow, Dean had maneuvered them so that Castiel was draped over his chest, his ear pressed right over Dean's heart. The angel listened to Dean's heartbeat as he waited for his breathing to calm and then lifted his head to look at Dean. His lover gave him a sleepy smile and his voice was hoarse as he said, "Fuck, Cas, that was amazing." Dean pressed a kiss into Castiel's hair. "God, I love you so much."

Castiel smiled and tucked his face back into Dean's chest. "I love you too, Dean," he murmured. Castiel kissed the spot over Dean's heart and they drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other's arms.

..........................................................................................................................................................

Adam woke up the next morning and was upset when he discovered that Michael was no longer in bed with him. He had gotten used to having the warmth of another body next to him when he woke up and he really didn't like waking up to find it gone.

Adam sighed and rolled onto his back, throwing one of his arms up over his eyes in an attempt to block out the sun that was now streaming through the windows. How could it be that he had gotten so used to sleeping with someone else so quickly? They had only been sharing a bed (in an unfortunately non-sexual way) for about three weeks now and already, Adam was sure that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep without Michael's comforting warmth surrounding him.

He chuckled a little bit. Adam would have never guessed that this would happen to him someday. Here he was, _one hundred and sixty-eight years old_ and falling in love for the first time with a hardened ex-soldier of all people. Life was fucking surreal some days.

Adam wondered what he and his brothers had done to deserve having their lives turned into a god damned fairytale. It hadn't been so completely obvious to him while it was all happening, but now that things were slowing down and turning into 'happily ever fucking after', he had to admit that he was seeing the commonalities between their situation and those Sam had read to him when he was still young enough for bedtime stories. And then there were those other types of fairytales…

Adam felt his dick harden and sighed again. The book he had found in his dad's study had been filled with fairytales, but there hadn't been _any_ similarities between them and the ones he had heard as a child. Well, aside from a few plot points that is. It was the only book he had ever seen of its kind but even though it had been years since he had seen it, the thought of the pictures…

Adam shook his head. There was no point to having these thoughts when he was sure that the minute he tried to do something about them, someone— _Oh god, please, not Michael!_ —would burst into the room to tell him that breakfast was ready or that there was some fucking emergency that couldn't wait the five minutes it would take him to…

 _Getting up now!_ Adam ordered himself urgently, forcing himself to get out of bed and away from his lascivious thoughts. He went through his morning routine, making sure to douse himself in cold water to get his body on the same track as his mind. Adam shuddered as his erection painfully deflated before drying himself off and getting dressed.

Adam made his way down to the dining room, even though he was sure that he would end up eating breakfast alone, but to his surprise, everyone was waiting for him. Dean and Castiel were looking deliriously happy together, their heads bent towards one another and their fingers twined together on the table. Gabriel was trying to put the parts of his meal that he didn't like on Sam's plate and Sam was giving him a lecture on healthy breakfast habits. When Adam looked closer though, he could see that Gabriel had one leg hooked around Sam's under the table. Even Bobby was looking both happy and amused as he watched the couples while he ate his breakfast.

Then Adam saw Michael smile at him and he couldn't help thinking that he didn't mind if his life turned out to be a fairytale, as long as it was a dirty one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so that's done. It's finished BUT I will be writing more in this 'verse. I will most likely be posting them as separate stories, so be on the lookout for those. I'm not making any promises but I do have a list of stories that will take place in this 'verse including: a Adam/Michael one-shot about their first time, a prequel about how Sam/Gabriel got together (thank you tmmdeathwishraven for the idea), as well as a Bobby-centric story about how he gets grandchildren (haven't quite figured that one out yet). If you have any requests for other stories in this 'verse, please let me know and I will try to write it (if I feel that I can write it reasonably in character that is).
> 
> In other news, I am also considering making a podfic for I Am No Angel. If you guys can give me feedback on whether I should or shouldn't do so, it would be greatly appreciated.
> 
> As for what I'm planning on doing next, well, I will be finishing my Mysterious Ways 'Verse eventually and I have a new fic in the works for SPN (Dean/Cas, of course) as well as one for Star Trek XI (because Kirk and Spock are made for each other in any universe), so if any of you are interested in reading those, I'll have the first chapters up as soon as I write them.
> 
> Goodbye for now, everyone! I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have. XD


	14. Putting On A Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Fucking Dean and Sam… all of them… I'll show them… I can have sex in public places too…"
> 
> .........................................................................................................
> 
> Take me on the floor
> 
> Can't take it anymore
> 
> I want you, I want you, I want you to show me love
> 
> Just take me on the floor
> 
> I can give you more
> 
> You kill me, kill me, kill me with your touch
> 
> -"Take Me On The Floor" The Veronicas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, this is Adam and Michael's first time (finally). I know we're all breathing a sigh of relief for poor Adam.
> 
> A big thank you to my beta, Delu, who was badgered into betaing this after she got home from school.
> 
> A special shout out to TheLadyPendragon. Without you, Michael and Adam wouldn't have even crossed my mind, so thanks. XD

Adam was frustrated. He and Michael had been together for over three months now. More specifically, it was three months, two weeks, and four days or three months, two weeks, and _five_ days depending on whether he was counting from the first time they had kissed or the first time they had slept in the same bed (not that he would do a girly thing like _counting_ , for fuck's sake). For some reason, Michael had yet to let them move past mutual hand jobs. Adam had tried everything he could think of to get Michael's control to slip, but though he was hundreds of years old mentally, his body was regrettably still that of a teenager and as a result, his ability to keep himself from being distracted was minimal at best. In fact, when Michael was involved, his restraint was practically nonexistent. The older man was very good at distracting him. So far, he hadn't had even a little bit of luck at getting Michael to push for more.

It was _really_ starting to piss him off.

To make matters worse, it seemed like everyone but Adam and Michael were getting busy. It was driving him up the fucking wall and it was about time that he did something about it. He was going to go find Michael right now and give him a piece of his mind. And maybe his body. Adam was ready to take things to the next level and Michael was going to have to get that through his thick skull.

Adam immediately got up from where he had been sitting beneath one of the trees on the castle grounds, mapping out his search in his head. He decided to start with the stables, since it was on his way to the castle and was the closest of the places on his search list. Michael probably wouldn't be there, but it couldn't hurt to take a look.

Adam stalked toward the stables with single-minded purpose, the images of what he was going to do to Michael driving him forward. When he finally got to the stable doors, however, the fact that they were closed made him stop dead in his tracks. Those doors were almost never closed during the day unless it was nearly freezing outside. A soft breeze blew through the trees, ruffling Adam's hair and pushing it off of his forehead; he didn't even shiver. It definitely wasn't cold enough for the doors to be closed.

He was putting his hands on one of the doors to push it open when he heard a strange noise coming from inside. Adam leaned closer to press his ear against the door, but he couldn't hear anything aside from a few thumps through the wood. Curious, Adam opened the door a crack and stuck his head in.

A few seconds later, when his brain had finally processed what he was seeing, he really, really, _really_ wished that he hadn't.

Dean was bent over, his pants around his ankles and his upper body braced against the stable wall directly opposite the door. Castiel was behind him, still fully clothed, but his hips were pumping in a rhythm that was unmistakable, even to someone who had never had full blown sex.

Adam froze in horror. His fingers went numb and slipped off of the door, causing it to creak as it swung open a few more inches. Castiel tensed and his wings snapped out to cover Dean as head turned toward the door. Once Castiel realized just who it was that had interrupted them—and more importantly, that he wasn't a threat to Dean—his shoulders relaxed, but his wings stayed around Dean as though to shield him from Adam's unworthy eyes.

An abstract, distant, and thankfully numb part of Adam noted that whatever Castiel had been doing to his oldest brother, he had evidently been doing it very well, because after a few seconds of inaction on Castiel's part, Dean let out what could only be called a whine of protest, apparently so lost in sensation that he hadn't even noticed that he and the angel weren't alone anymore. Castiel's cheeks turned red as he soothed Dean and started rolling his hips once more, but his voice was steady as he told Adam, "If you desire to use the stables, they will be free shortly." Then he turned back to Dean and put all of his effort into fucking Adam's brother into the wall.

Clearly dismissed, Adam stormed away from the stables, making sure to slam the door firmly shut as he departed. Adam would have given almost _anything_ to have not seen that. It was one thing to know that your brother was having sex—really Adam would prefer to think of his brothers as asexual creatures—but it was a completely different thing to see him taking it up the ass in the fucking stables of all places. Shit, he and Michael had had their first kiss there and now he wouldn't even be able to go to the stables when he was feeling nostalgic about it because Dean had gone and fucking tainted it.

Adam walked along the castle grounds, still thoroughly pissed off. _Fine,_ he thought savagely. _If Dean can get it on in the middle of the fucking day, then I'm gonna go make damn sure that from now on I'll be able to sex up Michael all day long if I want to._ The next place on list of places to search was the gardens. While Michael had no particular liking for gardens himself, Adam knew that he and Castiel—he shuddered in horror at the images the name had inadvertently called up in his mind—liked to spend time there together. Like before, Adam was fairly certain that Michael was not going to be in the gardens, but as with the stables, the gardens were on his way into the castle, so there really was no harm in checking.

He was wandering down the path through the middle of the garden when he heard rustling and a high-pitched female giggle. _Oh god, please don't tell me…_ Adam panicked. Unable to help himself, his head turned in the direction the noise had come from and he found himself once again playing the voyeur for a couple in the midst of flagrantly exhibitionistic sex.

Two bodies—one dark, one light—twined together in the grass between two tall hedges. For a moment, Adam didn't even recognize them, but after a solid minute of just standing there—partly aroused, partly horrified—he finally realized that it was Anna and Joshua.

Holy shit, he mused in what he would never admit to himself was awe. _I didn't know that position was possible. I don't know if I could get my legs up that far. Maybe Michael could…_

Adam shook his head as the thought reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing. He was looking for Michael so that hopefully he could soon be doing what every other person in the fucking castle seemed to be doing today. With one last look at the couple—who hadn't even noticed he was there, which strangely enough only made Adam feel more invisible than he already had—he hurried down the path to the castle.

Once he was through the castle doors, Adam relaxed a bit. He felt a bit more secure now that he was indoors and there was no chance of him seeing naked people having sex everywhere he looked.

Cheered up by the thought, Adam continued his search for Michael, deciding to start with their bedroom since that was the most likely place for him to be. When he got there, however, he saw no sign that Michael had even been there since they had woken up that morning.

With a sigh, Adam tried to guess at where else his boyfriend could be hiding. The only places that he could think of were the dining room and the library. Adam nodded decisively. Yes, he would check the library first, since it was closest, and then, if Michael wasn't there, he would check the dining hall.

Adam strode purposefully down the hall, determination once more showing in every step he took as he methodically hunted down his elusive boyfriend. When he reached the library, he marched up to the door and threw it open.

Unfortunately, two people were already using the room and neither one of them was Michael.

Sam was laying on one of the couches, naked except for one hideous pink button up shirt and Gabriel, who was doing a spectacular job of protecting Sam's modesty by bouncing up and down on his dick. Sam had one enormous hand on his lover's hip and the other on his erection, which was the only reason Adam didn't see just one body part more than his 'way more than I ever wanted to see of Gabriel' quota.

Both Sam and Gabriel had frozen when Adam had entered, but the minute he realized who it was, Gabriel had started moving again. Sam sat there—seemingly as shocked and horrified as Adam was—as his boyfriend lifted and dropped himself on his dick. Gabriel smirked at Adam. "Saw you out by the stables earlier and thought about joining you," he panted at Adam as he slammed down hard on Sam. "Then I decided that this ride was a much better use of my time."

Adam choked—unable to even think about Gabriel's words, let alone respond to them—before turning around to run, not bothering to close the doors behind him. He regretted this a moment later when Sam and Gabriel's shouts of completion followed him down the hall.

He couldn't help thinking about how unfair everything was. _God damn it,_ he fumed. _Not only am I completely useless at getting my own boyfriend to fucking want me, but my own brothers and even the fucking help have to go and rub it in my face that I'm the only one who isn't getting any._

More determined than ever to find Michael, he stormed off to the dining hall, thinking, _That's it! I am going to find him and get him to fuck me if it's the last thing I do!_

It was lucky for both of them that Michael was alone when Adam finally found him in the dining hall because a minute after the teenager spotted his prey, Michael was laid out, back flat to the table.

Adam sat on top of Michael, tearing at their clothes and muttering to himself, "Fucking Dean and Sam… all of them… I'll show them… I can have sex in public places too…"

By the time Michael managed to figure out what was going on, Adam had removed both of their shirts and his own pants. As he reached down to take off the other man's pants, Michael's hands reached out and caught his. "Adam, what are you doing?"

Michael's eyes were wide and worried, which was the only reason Adam stopped what he was doing. "I'm having sex with you," he stated bluntly. He pulled at Michael's grip on his wrists so that he could once again try to get into his boyfriend's pants.

"Adam!" Michael said, cutting off Adam's attempts to free himself. Though Michael's voice had grown deeper with desire, he was still apparently managing to think clearly. Adam intended to change that. "You're upset. Why don't we get off of the table so that we can talk about this?"

Adam shook his head vehemently. "No! No more talking." He was panting now with both exertion and lust and his erection was pressed hard against Michael's upper thigh. Adam whimpered and couldn't keep himself from thrusting as Michael shifted beneath him and accidentally rubbed him through what little clothing he had left. Adam blushed when he looked down and saw that there was a fucking wet spot on his shorts. He wasn't going to be able to take much more of this.

"Michael!" Adam forced the man's eyes away from the wet spot and up to his own. "I want you to fuck me now. I am way beyond ready for this." Something occurred to him and he swallowed convulsively before continuing. "That said, if you don't want me, I will…"

Michael grabbed Adam's hips, jerking him forward so that he could grind his erection into the teenager's ass. His eyes closed and his jaw clenched when he heard Adam moan and thrust down into him. "Do not…" Michael said through gritted teeth. "…tell me what I want." He opened his eyes and looked up at Adam. "I want you so much, but wanting isn't enough." He shook his head. "I can't do this just because you want sex and can't control your hormones."

Adam stopped struggling and stared down at Michael, hurt widening his eyes. He laughed self-deprecatingly and looked down at their joined hands. "For someone who's so fucking smart, you sure are an idiot." His eyes—filled with tears, though Adam would deny it with his dying breath if asked—lifted to meet Michael's. "I _love_ you, asshole. I want to have sex with you because it kills me inside that I don't have the freedom to touch you in _every possible way _that I've imagined touching you." The grip on Adam's wrists loosened and Adam slid his hand down to rest on Michael's cheek. His voice softened and he leaned closer. "I told you before. If all I wanted from you was a quick fuck to get me off, I would go find someone who would give it to me."__

By the time he had finished speaking, they were almost nose to nose. Suddenly, Michael surged up to kiss Adam, one hand coming up to cup the boy's cheek, the other gripping the hair at the back of his head. They were locked together passionately for a moment before Adam jerked his head back, panting and trying to catch his breath. Michael leaned up once more, but instead of kissing Adam, he whispered, "I love you too."

Adam breath caught in his throat and he didn't protest when Michael rolled them over so that he could be on top. Michael quickly shucked his pants and underwear and then gently removed Adam's as well before lying down on top of the younger man. Adam groaned when he felt their dicks press together between their bodies and somewhere in the recesses of his mind he was embarrassed about that. At the moment, however, it all felt so good that he could ignore any twinges of humiliation at the noises that were coming out of his mouth.

Michael reached between their bodies and stroked them together a few times, but that wasn't at all what Adam wanted so he rolled them over one more time, straddling Michael and reaching for his pants. The older man looked confused momentarily, but after Adam rummaged around in his pants pockets for a second and his hand finally emerged, triumphantly holding a bottle of some sort of lubricant, Michael's expression turned to one of pure lust.

Adam poured a copious quantity of the liquid onto his own fingers before reaching back to press one of them to his hole. He shuddered as the first finger breached the ring of muscle, instinctively closing his eyes to savor the sensation, and when he opened them again, Adam saw that Michael was watching him with an intense concentration that he had never before seen on the other man's face. The look was so primitive, so hungry, that it made him want to hurry up so that they could get to the fucking good part.

Unfortunately, Adam had already had some experience with stretching himself and knew that if he tried to go too fast he would end up walking funny for a while. Before Michael, Adam had never been attracted to another guy and when they started their relationship, he had been worried that he wouldn't like being fucked, and he sure as hell couldn't see Michael taking it up the ass. This worry had led to some experimentation that may have gotten slightly out of hand when he tried to shove three dry fingers into himself at one time. The looks he had gotten from his brothers and Gabriel—Castiel might have been giving him looks too, but with him, Adam never could tell—had been bad, but the confused looks he had gotten from Michael had been worse. His boyfriend may have been too polite to ask, but just the thought of having to answer the questions he would have asked had he been a bit more nosey was enough to make Adam blush.

"You've done this before," Michael commented.

His tone wasn't accusatory, but Adam paused the motion of his finger and went on the defensive. "So what? I wanted to be ready when you finally got over your hang-ups and decided to fuck me."

Michael smiled at Adam. "I didn't mean it like that." He chuckled. "I'm just putting two and two together and realizing why exactly you were limping a few weeks ago."

Adam blushed. "Well, I…nngh!" Adam gasped as one of Michael's fingers slid into his ass next to his own. He was panting harder now and couldn't manage to catch his breath enough to speak. Instead, he settled on giving Michael a reproachful glare.

"I thought your finger might be a bit lonely up there," Michael deadpanned, somehow managing to keep the grin Adam could see in his eyes from spilling out onto his face.

Adam rolled his eyes but he had to admit, the need was building in him too. Hastily, he pulled his finger away from Michael's, stretching his hole wider before inserting another finger. He thrust in and out with both fingers hurriedly before pulling them out.

"Okay," Adam said shakily. "Okay, I'm ready."

He felt Michael's finger slip away and couldn't suppress a gasp at the feeling of the emptiness inside of him as his hole clenched at nothing. Adam shook it off quickly and moved his hand down to grasp Michael's dick so that he could slowly lower himself onto it.

There was a pinch of pain as the head of Michael's dick stretched the ring of muscle his entrance, but soon enough, it was inside of him and he was sinking down in a smooth, steady motion. Adam realized that Michael must have coated himself in lubricant at some point and was ridiculously grateful that he had thought ahead enough to do so.

Everything was awkward at first. Adam tried to move lift and lower himself, to roll his hips just the right way, but it was his first time and not only were the sensations overwhelming, but he had a hard time coordinating the movements. Michael seemed to understand his dilemma and put his hands on Adam's hips to help him get the rhythm.

After a few false starts, Adam was able to keep up the movements on his own and he soon found out that if he clenched on the downward thrust, he was able to make Michael throw his head back and let out a few embarrassing noises of his own. Adam fucking loved it. He leaned back slightly and braced his hands on Michael's thighs. The change in position made him scream the next time he slammed himself down on Michael's dick.

Holy fucking shit, he didn't know what the hell kind of pleasure button he had just pressed, but all he wanted was to do it again. And again and again.

What felt like hours later, Adam was coming, covering Michael, the table, and most likely himself with semen. A drop of the sticky liquid had landed on Michael's bottom lip and Adam felt himself come undone even more when the man's tongue flicked out to lick it off.

Adam crushed his lips against Michael's, barely noticing when the man flipped him onto his back and started thrusting until Adam was feeling the warmth of Michael's release spilling inside of him and swallowing his lover's choked off cry. Adam enjoyed kissing Michael languidly until his hips stopped jerking, basking in the afterglow of his own orgasm even as he reveled in Michael's.

Adam nuzzled his nose into Michael's hair and kissed him on the cheek. "Fuck, that was amazing. If I'd've known it would be that good, I would have forced you to fuck me weeks ago." Adam pulled himself off of Michael, wincing a bit as the other man's dick slid out of his sore hole. Ignoring the slight discomfort, he stretched his arms over his head and then curled back into Michael's side.

Michael pulled Adam closer, wrapping his arms around him, and looked down at his boyfriend warmly. "I love you," he whispered. "So much."

Adam grinned at him and leaned forward to give him a soft kiss on the lips. "I love you, too," he murmured. His hand wandered down Michael's chest. "So," Adam said seductively. "Ready for round two?"

"What the hell're you two idjits doin' on the table?"

Bobby's voice cut through their post-orgasmic haze, causing both of their heads to swing around. Adam yelped and scrambled to grab his pants while simultaneously trying to hide behind his lover's broad shoulders. It was only once he was half crouched and peeking over Michael's shoulder that he realized that his brothers were there too with both Castiel and Gabriel in tow. Luckily, it seemed as though they had come in after Michael and Adam had finished having sex, but that wasn't stopping Gabriel from laughing like a deranged fool or Bobby from cursing and muttering about idjits. As usual, Castiel was showing no expression, but Adam could see that his ears and neck were turning red and knew that it was only a matter of time before his whole face would match.

Dean and Sam's faces were vacillating between horror and amusement. Finally, after a few minutes of them simply staring at Michael and Adam in shock, Dean snorted and elbowed Sam in the side.

"What d'you know?" he gasped and, though he didn't know what Dean was about to say, Adam knew that whatever it was, he wasn't going to find it as funny as his brother obviously did. "The teacup _spilled_ all over the table!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right. I hope you guys enjoyed my Adam/Michael PWP. Next up in this 'verse: Sam and Gabriel and how they fell in love. Might be a while. I would anticipate that this one will be quite a bit longer than Putting On A Show. I would like to say that I will be posting it separate from the main IANA posting, but I can't guarantee that. Until next time! XD


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